Unregistered
by htdcd
Summary: Harry gets a unique opportunity to get to know Severus Snape. Who knew Snape would turn out to be a cat person? 8th year at Hogwarts, Snape!lives, animagus fic, rated M for later scenes of slash.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my newest FF and I'm interested to see where my bunny will go. If you're coming along for the ride, try to be patient with me! I write as often as I can when inspiration hits. I'm posting this as I go rather than waiting until the entire story is finished. I hope you enjoy it...bear with me!_

* * *

The idea took hold one day while Harry was out by the lake. He was sitting at the shore, at the place where he and Sirius had almost died at the end of his third year. He was staring across at where he had stood while using the time turner; where he'd thought he'd seen his father casting the Patronus that saved his life. Suddenly, the thought popped into his head. His father had done it, so why couldn't he? What better way to connect with his father and Sirius and Lupin than to do it himself? He could teach himself to be an Animagus. His first thought was that he'd need Hermione. But he quickly banished that idea because she'd demand that he register himself, and he didn't want to do that. His dad hadn't, so he didn't think he should have to, either. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to use his Animagus form to do anything nefarious, like Rita Skeeter. He wouldn't spy on people and publish their secrets for everyone to see. He was just doing it to honor the memory of his father and his father's best friends; Harry's friends. And maybe one day he'd even teach Teddy, to help him connect with his own father.

He immediately got up and headed back toward the castle. He was glad he was one of the only students staying over the summer. He didn't fancy running into anyone while he tried to find information on becoming an Animagus in the library. He was at Hogwarts because he felt like he didn't really have anywhere else to go. There was Grimmauld Place, but Harry didn't really feel grown-up enough to live on his own yet. He'd never gone grocery shopping; never even bought toilet paper. Besides, he'd be returning to Hogwarts in the fall with the rest of his class to prepare for NEWTs. They'd been cancelled after the battle. Hermione was ecstatic they would get to make up for their lost year. Harry felt much more neutral about the whole thing. He knew he probably didn't really need his NEWTs to become an Auror. Given who he was, he figured he could do pretty much whatever he wanted and no one would try to stop him. But Hogwarts felt like home, and he didn't mind being able to stay an extra year.

His footsteps echoed in the hallways as he made his way to the library. He rounded the corner and almost crashed into a tall, dark figure.

"Mister Potter," Snape's voice was contemptuous, "whatever could you be doing inside on such a pleasant summer's day? I should hope you're not up to something. It's never too early to lose house points."

"N-no sir," Harry stammered. "Just headed to the library. Need to do a bit of studying."

"How industrious," Snape nearly sneered. "Do try to keep out of trouble, Potter. I have better things to do with my summer than spend my time supervising detentions."

Snape passed Harry and continued walking down the corridor. Harry wondered if Snape was serious about losing house points and getting detention over the summer. Probably. It didn't seem like Snape had changed much, even though the war was over and he didn't have to pretend to serve Voldemort anymore. Harry and other Order members had testified on Snape's behalf while he lay recovering in St. Mungo's from Nagini's bite, and the man had been cleared with much more ease than Harry would have thought possible. If Harry expected Snape to be more cordial to him now that Harry knew the truth, he was mistaken. Snape still seemed to dislike Harry just as much now as he did before. At least Harry had some understanding of why, now, since he knew Snape had been in love with his mum. At least, that's what the memories he'd seen made it seem like. He supposed Snape would never get over his hatred of his father, and Harry would just have to learn to stay out of Snape's way. Harry wondered if Snape would resume his post as Headmaster or if he would go back to teaching. And if he did return to the classroom, would he go back to teaching Potions or Defence? Harry stopped his musings once he entered the library, at once beginning his search for any materials that would help him on his quest to become an unregistered Animagus.

* * *

It was easier than Harry had thought it was going to be to find information on Animagus transformations. What wasn't easy, however, was the transformation itself. He quickly realized that his father, Sirius, Lupin, and even Peter must have been very talented wizards to manage learning the magic on their own without any formal training. Harry wasn't even sure he could do it. Once again he thought about asking Hermione for help, but the need for secrecy won out and he decided he would just try to go it alone.

Harry was positive that if he'd had help from Hermione he could have mastered the transformation much more quickly, but as it was, it took nearly a month of hard work before he was finally able to complete the transformation. He had tried and tried and he thought he'd come close a few times, but all of a sudden, one Saturday morning while he was alone in the dormitory, he tried it and suddenly felt himself shrinking and changing shapes. It was a bizarre feeling; similar to drinking the Polyjuice potion, only stranger because instead of changing from one person to another, he was changing from one species to another. The good news was that the transformation wasn't painful, as he imagined Lupin's change into a werewolf was. In a matter of seconds, he found himself on all fours, quite close to the ground. Excited to see what he'd become, he looked down at his feet to see furry paws. He felt something on his back twitch, and suddenly realized he'd grown a tail. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a, "Rowrrrr." It startled Harry so much that he sat down and blinked. He must be a cat. His first thought was disappointment. A cat was so ordinary. He'd hoped he might be a Stag, like his dad; like his Patronus. Maybe a bird, since he was so good at flying. _Oh well_, he thought to himself. At least he wasn't a rat. Or a snake. A cat wouldn't draw attention from anyone. At least he could walk around without anyone thinking twice about seeing a cat in the hallways. He got up and sauntered over to the full-length mirror by the door.

He saw what he deemed to be quite a handsome cat in the reflection. Glossy black, a close match to his natural hair color, he still had startling green eyes, and markings around them that could be likened to glasses. He had a white streak of fur down the center of his forehead that bled into his pink nose. All-in-all, he liked what he saw. He closed his eyes and tried to reverse his transformation. Moments later, he found himself on his hands and knees in front of the mirror. He'd have to work on being able to end up standing.

"Wicked," he said aloud with a smile. He went over to open the dormitory door and without a second thought, he changed back into his cat form and quickly ducked out and headed down the stairs to the common room. It was empty, which didn't surprise Harry, as there was only one other Gryffindor staying the summer at the castle. He made his way over to the portrait, unsure of whether or not it would open for him. He lifted up a paw to push it open, and it swung wide. He silently padded out into the hallway and began his exploration.

Things looked different from his new viewpoint. He noticed that the stone floors were quite dirty. He also found it easy to spot small insects crawling along the walls. It was also easier for him to hide in the shadows if he needed to, which he did at one point when Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout rounded the corner, chatting quietly to one another. He made his way outside into the sunshine and headed toward the lakeshore. He lay down in the soft grass and stretched out. He was much more flexible as a cat. The sun was warm and the breeze was nice, and before he knew it, Harry was asleep.

* * *

When Harry awoke, he felt disoriented. It was strange waking up in his cat body, since he'd only just been in it for a few hours. He didn't know how long he'd slept or what time it was, but he was hungry. He made his way back up to the castle and as he passed by the Great Hall, he heard noises. Checking around quickly, he made sure he was alone, and then transformed back into himself. He opened the door and went inside, seeing that it was dinner time. Upon his entrance, the professors at the head table all stopped and stared at him. They quickly went back to eating their food. All except Snape, who glared at Harry hard enough that Harry was worried he might be in trouble for being late to dinner. His thoughts flashed back to his earlier run-in with Snape and his mention of detention. Harry broke eye contact and made his way over to the Gryffindor table where the other student sat eating silently. Harry thought he remembered she was going to be a third year. He sat across from her and his food appeared in front of him. His presence seemed to intimidate her, though, as after she looked up at him once, eyes wide, her eyes didn't leave her plate for the rest of the meal.

* * *

The next day found Harry sitting in the courtyard after breakfast, reading his Transfiguration text. He smiled grimly, thinking Hermione would be proud that he was studying when he didn't really have to. He nearly dropped his book when a voice startled him from behind.

"Come with me, Potter," Snape commanded.

Harry closed his book quickly and hopped down off the ledge he was on. "Why, sir?" he asked in what he hoped was a polite tone.

"Because I said so," Snape snapped.

Harry's temper flared. Why was Snape being so rude to him? He hadn't even done anything wrong. He supposed he was maturing, however, when his sarcastic retort died on his lips. That, or he had gained a remarkable amount of self-preservation over the past year. He followed Snape out to the castle grounds, passing debris that still lay scattered from the battle.

"We are doing repairs on the castle today, Potter," Snape stated as he walked briskly. Harry had to jog to keep up. "As an of-age wizard, you shall be helping, lest you find something ill-advised to do in your idle time."

Harry was surprised. He didn't think Snape would think him capable of being much help at anything, let alone something as important as repairing the castle. Then again, maybe it hadn't been Snape who had decided to let him help. Maybe Snape was just the one who had been sent to fetch him. As they rounded the side of the castle, he saw the other professors and several people he didn't recognize levitating stones up and into their rightful places in the partially destroyed wall.

"Do try not to kill anyone, Potter," Snape said condescendingly, and then strode off to the other side of the group.

It was surprisingly hard work, and the day was hot. Harry was glad he wasn't wearing robes, or he was sure he'd be sweating buckets. He'd been commanded to take a few breaks and get water by Professor McGonagall. Finally, she announced it was time for lunch. The group headed back up to the castle and Harry wiped the sweat dripping from his brow. As they made their way to the Great Hall, someone swept up behind him.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," Snape sounded disgusted, "go take a shower before coming to eat. You smell worse than a hippogriff's stall."

Harry's face clouded over and he was about to snap back at Snape that he was sure he didn't smell worse than anyone else, when he decided a shower would probably feel nice after the hard work. It wouldn't take him long, and he'd be down to eat quickly.

When he returned to the Great Hall showered and changed, Snape gave him a surprised look. Harry supposed he was shocked that Harry had actually done what he'd asked.

The rest of the afternoon was spent fixing up the west wall of the castle. McGonagall pronounced that they would be working on the Astronomy tower the next day. Snape gave a particularly sour look at that. Harry didn't feel much better about it.

Harry went to the dorms and took another shower before dinner. He was sore, and impressed that the work they'd done, even though it had all been magical, left him with such a feeling of accomplishment. After dinner, he had a few hours before curfew, and he wasn't really in the mood to study, so he transformed into his cat and decided to prowl about the castle. He hadn't realized it, but he'd wandered down to the dungeons. He heard two voices arguing behind one of the doors. Harry looked up and saw that it was Snape's office.

"Of course I don't want to be Headmaster anymore," Snape sounded exasperated. "I'm more than happy to leave you with that task."

Harry nudged the door open with his nose and slunk inside, staying close to the wall and out of sight.

"Well, you can have your pick of Potions or Defence, then," Professor McGonagall offered him.

"I don't care," Snape said, running his hands through his hair. Harry noticed that the glare was gone from his face.

"Do you even want to come back?" McGonagall sounded a bit put-out, although Harry couldn't see her face.

"And what else would I do?" Snape countered. "It's not as though I'm qualified to do much else."

"I'm sure there are positions that would suit you," McGonagall said. "You've got the freedom now, if you wanted, you could leave."

Snape sighed. Harry'd never heard a sound like that come out of Snape before. He sounded tired.

"And go where? I might have been cleared but my name is still worthless. Legally, I'm not responsible for what I've done, but I'll never be able to work anywhere else. No one would offer me a position; not with my background." Snape sounded defeated. "I find it hard to believe that anyone – save those remaining from the Order – would trust me as far as they could throw me."

"I'm sure it's not quite as bad as all that," McGonagall sounded unconvinced, though.

"In any event," Snape continued, sounding a bit less despondent, "I'm comfortable here. I suppose after all these years I've become a moderately good teacher."

Harry wished cats could snort.

"Until I am able to find other employment, I shall stay on staff," he paused, as if giving something thought. "I believe it would be easiest if I were to continue in the Potions post. I have the curricula for that already established."

"Very well," McGonagall answered. "Thank you, Severus, you are most welcome here."

Snape waved her away. "Yes, yes, oh," he stopped her. "I shall need a list of the students who were in NEWT Potions and their OWL scores."

"What for, Severus?" McGonagall sounded confused.

"I only accept those with Outstanding into my course," he said, as if she should know.

"You can't deny students who have been in NEWT Potions for the last year, Severus," Harry could hear the frown in her voice.

"I'll not have students in my class who are less than capable. I have no patience for students who need hand-holding."

"Students who achieved Exceeds Expectations are more than capable of taking a NEWT Potions course," McGonagall was exasperated. "You'll have the students who were in 6th year Potions last year and you'll have a separate section of students who were in 7th year Potions last year. The students coming back to sit their NEWTs will need heavy review. There was not much learning going on last year."

Harry could see Snape's face looking mutinous.

"Could I at least be permitted to set an examination a few weeks into the course to see which students show the level of aptitude for achieving a NEWT?" he asked in a deadly voice.

"No you may not," McGonagall was firm. "However," she continued in the face of his fury, "I shall allow that after Christmas exams, any student not at the Exceeds Expectations level or higher shall be dropped from the course."

Snape didn't look mollified.

"It's the best you'll get, Severus," McGonagall warned. "And," she paused, "you can set your Outstanding restriction for the incoming NEWT classes."

Snape's face finally softened at that acquiescence. McGonagall turned to go and Harry shrunk even further back into the shadows to avoid being seen. He was about to follow her out into the hallway when the door slammed shut in front of him.

_Uh-oh_, Harry thought. Now he was trapped in Snape's office. Alone. With Snape. Harry had no idea how long Snape was going to stay in his office. In fact, Harry wasn't sure he'd even leave that evening. Perhaps his rooms were joined to his office. Harry resigned himself that he'd just have to wait for Snape to leave before Harry could transform into himself again and get out. He was so lost in his contemplations for escape, he didn't hear Snape behind him until it was too late. He jumped a foot in the air and started to streak off into safety.

"Well, well," Snape's silky voice struck fear into Harry's heart.

Harry felt the hex hit him and he fell, frozen, to the floor.

"What have we here?" Snape came and stood over him. Harry's heart was pounding so fast he thought it might leap out of his chest. Snape picked Harry up and examined him. "A cat," Snape stated the obvious. "Whose cat are you, I wonder?" he peered into Harry's eyes.

_Oh no, oh no_, Harry silently screamed. _Please don't recognize me!_

"Perhaps a stray?" Snape tapped his wand against his jaw. "You've wandered quite a ways to find yourself in my dungeon," Snape scolded Harry the cat. He kept his hold on Harry and began to walk to the back of the office.

_Please put me down!_ Harry was frantic. _Please let me go! Please don't use me in a potion!_ Harry was sure he'd read about potions that used cat organs.

Snape waved his wand and a door appeared. He strode through it, cat in hand, and Harry suddenly realized he was in Snape's private quarters.

_Oh, I'm going to die_, Harry said to himself. _Snape's going to kill me and I'm going to die._

"Hungry, are you?" Snape gently placed Harry on a dark green sofa in front of the fireplace. "I'll see what I can rustle up for you."

Snape raised his wand and Harry felt himself unfreeze. Snape left the room and Harry darted off the couch and underneath the nearest chair.

_I've got to get out of here_, he thought to himself. But he had no idea how. What was strange, though, was how Snape was treating the cat. He hadn't killed Harry yet and he was even getting him food. It was odd seeing Snape be nice to another living creature. He heard Snape come back into the room. The smell of tuna filled Harry's nose.

"Cat?" Snape called. He set the plate of tuna on the ground. "Cat, where are you?"

Harry's mouth started to water at the smell and sight of the tuna. His instincts were at war with each other. Part of him wanted to eat the food and part of him wanted to do everything in his power to escape. He heard Snape walk out of the room and he tentatively stuck his head out from underneath the chair to survey his surroundings. Deciding the coast was clear, he stealthily moved toward the tuna plate and sniffed it. He took a small bite and then his cat instincts took over and he began devouring the fish. In just a few moments, it was gone, and Harry licked his paws without thinking. He sat up, still alone in the room. It was a cozy room, if dark. The sofa he'd been on was a deep Slytherin green. The chair he'd been hiding under was black leather. The fireplace mantle had various knickknacks on it, and pleasant photos hung around the room. Bookshelves lined the back wall and they were filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes. Not the dungeons of his imagination, then. It seemed Snape was human, after all.

He heard Snape open the door to come back into the room and he scuttled back underneath the chair. He saw Snape's feet stop at the empty plate and sigh. Snape bent down and picked up the plate. He walked it to another open part of the room and Harry stuck his head out from under the chair and saw that it was a small kitchenette. He watched as Snape stood at the sink and rinsed off the plate. He felt as though he was trespassing, watching Snape perform something as ordinary as washing off a dish. Snape put the dish on a drying rack and came back out to the sitting room. He sat down on the sofa with a magazine and pointed his wand at the fire, which was immediately lit. Harry's head was poked out from underneath the chair just enough that he could see Snape open the magazine and begin to read. The fire reflected off the glossy cover of the periodical. The fire was warm and Harry felt himself drawn to it.

"You know, cat," Snape said, catching Harry's eye, "I won't bite you. Why don't you come sit up here?" He patted the cushion next to him.

Did he dare? Harry warred with himself. Snape seemed like such a different person here. Did Harry take a chance and interact with him? Would Snape be more suspicious of a cat that cowered away from him?

"Rowrr," Harry mewed from underneath the chair. Snape patted the couch beside him again. Harry crawled on his belly until he was out from underneath the chair. He sat up, watching Snape carefully. His tail and ears twitched as the fire popped in the fireplace. He contemplated jumping up to the couch to sit next to Snape. He'd not jumped up onto anything yet. He hoped that he wouldn't misjudge the distance and either smash his face into the side of the sofa or fly over the back. Snape's legs were crossed and he had his finger stuck between the pages of the magazine. His face looked so different to Harry. It was free from the scowl that normally was plastered there. He looked almost amused as he watched Harry debate whether or not to join him on the couch. Finally, curiosity got the better of Harry and he crouched down, preparing to jump up next to Snape. He sprung and was thankful that his instincts were as good as they were. He landed gracefully on the deep green cushion and looked up at Snape.

"See?" Snape said to him, "Perfectly harmless." He reached his hand out and Harry shrunk back, but Snape's hand continued without stopping until it made contact with Harry's head. He felt Snape's fingers rubbing his ears and along his jaw. He was unable to stop the purr that escaped his throat, and he immediately felt ashamed that Snape had done something so enjoyable to him. Snape's hands were warm and strong, and Harry didn't have time to resist before Snape wrapped both hands around him and pulled Harry onto his lap. Snape ran his hand down the back of Harry, who arched into the touch with a stretch. Instinct again took over and he began to knead Snape's thighs with his paws.

"Stab me with your claws and I'll be sure to use you in a potion," Snape warned him. Harry was careful to keep his claws retracted, even though he wasn't sure exactly how he did it. He eventually curled up on Snape's lap, feeling both strangely content and completely repulsed at the same time. Snape opened his magazine back up and continued reading. Harry stared into the fire, marveling at the revelation that Severus Snape, of all people, was a cat person.

Harry must have fallen asleep because he opened his eyes suddenly when he was jostled by Snape's movement.

"Cat, you'll have to nap elsewhere, I've papers to grade," Snape shooed Harry off his lap and put the magazine down on an end table.

Harry looked at the clock above the mantle and his heart quickened when he realized he only had 15 minutes before curfew. He went quickly over to the door that led to Snape's office and scratched at it.

"You want out?" Snape raised his eyebrow and followed Harry to the door. He opened it and Harry slid out. He went to the front of the office and did the same thing to the door there. "Well," Snape sounded slightly disappointed, "I suppose you have places to be." He came to the door and let Harry out. Harry went into the hallway and turned around to look back at Snape, who was watching him through a crack in the door.

"Mrowrr," he said.

"Come back if you like," Snape offered, then closed the door.

Harry ran as fast as he could back to the common room and changed back into himself right before the portrait. The common room was empty and he went straight upstairs and flopped onto his bed.

_What am I doing?_ he thought to himself. He felt tremendously guilty, but also fascinated at what he'd done. Who knew Snape had humanity inside him? It made Harry strangely uncomfortable.

Harry dreamt of a warm fire that night, and hands rubbing behind his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I've gotten some good reviews on this. I'm glad people like it so far. I am not sure how long or short it will be. I know where the end is, but I'm not sure how much time it will take to get there. I guess we'll see how things develop!_

* * *

Snape had been glaring at Harry nearly constantly as the Astronomy Tower repairs were being done. Harry had stuck close to McGonagall's side the entire morning, fearing whatever vitriol Snape surely had stored up for him. He knew that Snape's memories of being on this tower must be similar to Harry's, although Harry was sure Snape's were much worse, given what he'd had to do that night. But if he thought Harry was going to bring anything up, Harry thought he was crazy. Even Harry wasn't enough of an idiot to mention anything about Dumbledore's death to Snape. Everyone knew what had really happened, but that didn't make the act any easier to stomach.

"Potter!" Snape snapped at him, "Pay attention! The spell is _segillum_, not _selgium_. You'll have hundreds of students plummeting to their deaths come September if you don't affix the stones together correctly."

"So-sorry, sir," Harry stammered out.

"Oh, Severus, the boy just learned the incantation yesterday. Be a bit more forgiving," McGonagall reprimanded him.

If Harry thought Snape had been glaring at him before, he'd been wrong. Snape's normally pale skin flushed with rage and his eyes glittered with danger.

"Forgiving? Minerva? Of course, I apologize for having the safety of our students at the forefront of my thoughts. You were the one who was convinced Potter could be relied upon to perform adequately. I hadn't realized his inability to remember the simplest of spells was something not of my concern." Snape whirled around and headed away from the group.

McGonagall shook her head and let out a sigh. "Do try to be more careful, Potter," she looked at him with pursed lips.

"Yes, Professor," Harry promised.

* * *

After Harry had showered, he headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. All the students staying for the summer were seated at the same table, and the professors were all at the head table. Snape sat in his chair with a stony expression on his face. After a glance, Harry looked away quickly and sat down to eat.

"Harry," Professor Flitwick tapped Harry on the back as he passed him.

Harry turned around from his seat at the table. "Yes, Professor?"

"I was wondering if you might be able to come help me put my classroom back to rights after lunch?"

Harry glanced up to the head table and got a brief nod from Professor McGonagall. "Sure, Professor. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Excellent!" Flitwick broke into a wide smile. "Thank you, Harry!"

Harry finished his lunch and then stood to exit the Great Hall. He chanced a look up at the head table and saw Snape staring down at his plate, stabbing at his food with what Harry thought was a bit more force than necessary. Without dawdling any longer, Harry left the Hall and made his way down to Flitwick's classroom.

As it turned out, most of the time spent helping Flitwick consisted of vanishing rubbish and putting torn pages back in their respective books. After not even an hour, Harry was nearly bored to tears. Plus, he had to deal with the Professor's chatter about what Harry wanted to do after he sat his NEWTs. He'd managed to dodge most of the conversation with some well-placed "uh-huhs" and "mmms", but Flitwick kept going on about Aurors and Harry figured that until he came up with a firm plan for his future that he may as well go along with what he'd thought he wanted to do before he went into hiding last year.

"Well," Flitwick sighed cheerfully, "I suppose I'd better give you some free time before dinner, Harry. Thank you for your help today!"

"No problem, Professor," Harry replied, making his way toward the door. Cringing on the inside as he said it, he tacked on, "Let me know if you need any more help."

"Oh, I will, I will," Flitwick smiled happily and waved Harry away.

Harry headed toward the library, intent on doing some reading before dinner. He knew, care of Hermione, that old copies of OWL and NEWT exams were kept on file. He figured it might be a good idea to look them over and see what he was in for. He was still waiting for his textbook list to come. He knew it would be a few weeks, still, since it was now just the beginning of July. He figured poring over some old exams would take a little while, and then he could start in on some of the texts he'd seen the 7th years reading. He wasn't sure exactly where this newfound desire to succeed academically had come from. He figured some of it was probably boredom. The rest might stem from the realization that since he had virtually no idea what he wanted to do with his life, he'd better be prepared for any eventuality.

He was sitting quietly, looking at a Transfiguration written examination from five years ago when he heard the crisp click of heels behind him.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter," the voice sneered. Harry didn't have to look up to imagine the nasty look on Snape's face. "Spending time in the library studying for the upcoming year. Showing initiative. Refraining from reckless foolishness. Your father must be rolling in his grave."

Harry didn't look up. "I'm sure my father studied plenty for his NEWTs," Harry tried to keep an even and quasai-polite tone, "sir," he added.

Snape moved to stand in front of Harry, so Harry was forced to look at him. "Your father was an arrogant bastard who considered studying beneath him. He spent his waking moments with Black making the lives of others miserable."

Harry felt his face flush with anger, but he took a deep breath and thought carefully about his response, rather than just blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I wouldn't really know, sir, since the only memory I have of him is right before Lord Voldemort murdered him." Harry was grimly satisfied at the way Snape's face twisted at the mention of Lord Voldemort.

"Then how fortunate you are that I can provide a balance to the stories of unbridled glory you hear from everyone else," Snape's voice dripped with malice.

Harry had reached his breaking point. "Because yours are so unbiased," he retorted.

Snape took a deep breath in and looked like he was about to dock points, but what came out instead was, "Professor McGonagall has requested your help, minimal though it may be, with the repairs to the northeast wall of the castle tomorrow."

Snape looked like he was expecting a response, so Harry shifted uncomfortably and said, "Um, all right then."

"Do not ruin those texts, Potter," Snape commanded as he turned to walk away from Harry. "And do not be late to dinner."

Harry waited until Snape was out of sight before he let out a, "Sodding prick."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," Snape's voice rang out from the front of the library.

"Fuck," Harry shook his head, glanced at the time, and then shut the text in front of him in a huff.

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep. He'd just received the letter from Ron about coming to the Burrow for two weeks at the end of July and early August. He was ecstatic that he wouldn't have to be alone at Hogwarts for his birthday. He also figured he'd get his booklist by then and be able to take a trip to Diagon Alley and get everything so he'd have something to do for the last few weeks before term started. The excitement from Ron's letter had revved up his mind, and he knew sleep would be a long time coming. It wasn't even that late, anyway, Harry rationalized. Curfew was ten o'clock and it was just now eleven. It couldn't hurt to wander around the castle for just a bit. Instinctively, he went to his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak, but smiled when he remembered he wouldn't need that. He could do his exploring as a cat. He made sure the bedroom door was open before transforming and slipping out, going down the stairs and exiting the common room with barely a sound.

Harry had wandered to the gargoyle (or what was left of it) in front of the staircase up to the Headmaster's office. He didn't know if it was warded or not, but he decided to try his luck and headed up the stairs. He suddenly had an urge to see Dumbledore's portrait, even if he wouldn't be talking to it. When he got to the office door, he noticed it was cracked open. Slinking inside, he crouched down underneath a nearby cabinet when he heard a small commotion up by the desk. Wary and curious at the same time, he kept to the edge of the room as he made his way silently up closer to the noise. His eyes widened as he saw Snape going through the drawers of the desk, piling things into a cardboard box.

"I told her I did not wish to remain Headmaster, Albus," Snape sounded frustrated as he tossed things carelessly into the box.

"But why not, Severus? You did an admirable job of it for the short time you were in the post," Dumbledore's portrait conversed with Snape.

"I never wanted the position," Snape argued. "He insisted that I take it. I only did it to comply."

"And to protect the students," Dumbledore added.

"Yes," Snape snorted, "I did so well at that."

"You did what you could, Severus," Dumbledore soothed.

"Children were placed under the Cruciatus curse while I was head of this school, Albus," Snape banged his fist on the desk. "No one, least of all you, can assuage my conscience."

"And think how much worse it would have been if someone else had been in charge," Albus countered. "You are too hard on yourself."

"I will happily go back to my classroom and continue teaching the moronic little beasts until I retire," Snape shook his head and went back to clearing out his belongings from the desk.

"I'm sure your Slytherins will be pleased to have you back as Head of House," Dumbledore smiled.

"I think most of them would rather I remain Headmaster, actually," Snape said absentmindedly. "Those whose families think I still have some sort of allegiance to the Dark Lord would hope that I continue to instill those values. I suppose those who believe the stories of my innocence would just as well have me leave altogether."

"And how is Harry?" Dumbledore shifted the topic abruptly.

"What?" Snape snapped his head around to stare at Albus's portrait with wide eyes.

"Harry. How is he faring? I haven't spoken to him since the morning after the battle. He is here at Hogwarts for the summer, is he not?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed.

"Is he well?" Dumbledore asked.

"How should I know?" Snape nearly shouted. "I am no longer his keeper!"

"I am not suggesting that you are," Dumbledore responded calmly. "I merely thought that with your impressive powers of observation you might be able to give me some peace of mind as to his current state."

Snape turned back away from Dumbledore's portrait and began throwing his belongings angrily into the box. Harry wondered briefly if it had an undetectable extension charm on it, since it seemed much too small for the amount of things Snape was tossing in.

"Believe me, I'm sure your precious Golden Boy is doing spectacularly. Answering fan mail all hours of the day, readying himself for his unquestioned acceptance into the Auror program. I'm sure your concern is misplaced."

"Severus, I fear you are being too harsh," Dumbledore chided.

"Too harsh?" Snape once again turned to face the portrait. "He defeated the most powerful Dark wizard of all time, Albus. He is the descendant of one of the most arrogant people I have ever had the displeasure to meet. Second perhaps only to Lucius Malfoy. He is treated like royalty by everyone he encounters. His abilities are inflated and his ego is a monstrosity. I assure you, I am being gracious."

"Severus, stop it this instant!" Dumbledore cut across Snape's tirade. "Do not try to persuade me you are unaware of the struggles Harry faced as a child. Do not pretend to not understand the enormous burden that was placed upon his shoulders. You, more than anyone, I would think would have sympathy for someone else whose life purpose had been dictated to them."

"Sympathy?" Snape's voice rose higher in fury. "Have sympathy for a boy whose own parents loved him so much that they died to save him? Sympathy for someone whose two closest friends put their entire lives on hold and risked their own necks to help him fulfill his destiny? Sympathy for someone whose future is an open book, waiting to be written?"

"Harry died, Severus," Dumbledore raised his voice over Snape's.

"Well, he didn't do it right, did he, since he's still here!" Snape ran his hand angrily through his hair and Harry could see the spittle flying through the air.

"Severus Snape!" Dumbledore rose out of his chair and loomed over Snape. Snape shrunk back just a bit. "Enough with your boyhood grudges and insecurities! For everyone's sake, it is time you moved on. Your existence, and the existence of those around you, is destined to be nothing but miserable if you cannot put the past behind you and move on!"

There was a silence. Harry could hear his own breathing.

"How can I forget him if he won't leave?" Snape said softly, looking up into Dumbledore's portrait.

"Oh my," Dumbledore's eyes suddenly made contact with Harry's. "Who have we here?"

Harry froze, realizing too late that he had been unconsciously moving closer to the conversation as it grew more and more heated.

Snape's eyes followed Dumbledore's and finally rested on Harry. "Cat," he said in an exasperated tone, running his hand through his hair again. "How did you make it all the way up here?"

"Is he your cat?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully.

"No," Snape replied, making his way around the desk and coming toward Harry. "He showed up in my dungeons last night. I think he's a stray who found his way in from the forest."

"Well, he seems to like you," Dumbledore mused as he watched Snape pick Harry up and bring him back over to the desk.

Snape scoffed, "More interested in food than self-preservation, is more likely."

Harry noticed that the desk was nearly cleared off.

"Well, I expect you to come and visit me, Severus," Dumbledore shook his finger.

"Yes, with my ample free time I shall endeavor to do so," Snape hoisted the box under his arm. "Come, Cat, if you'd like some food you can follow me down to my rooms."

Harry watched Snape move toward the door. He didn't know what to do. He was speechless. He'd had no idea Snape had hated him that much. Or maybe he had but he'd hoped it had all been an act for Voldemort. He knew Snape would never like him; that they'd never be friends, but he'd hoped that they might be able to be at least cordial. Harry didn't know how he was going to make it through Potions this year. Then Harry was angry. None of this was his fault! Snape was just being an unmitigated bastard. He was acting like Harry had done something purposefully to offend him. The only thing Harry had ever done was look in Snape's Pensieve in fifth year. He'd never done anything – _anything_ else to upset Snape. Everything that happened was reactionary. Anything he said or did was in response to something unfair or hateful that Snape had done. How dare Snape go around acting like it was Harry's fault!

"Cat?" Snape had turned around in the open doorway and was looking expectantly at Harry, who sat on the desk, tail twitching.

"Rowrrr," Harry said disapprovingly, knowing Snape wouldn't understand. He didn't know why, but he was interested in going with Snape. He knew it was probably a colossally bad idea, but he jumped down softly and padded after Snape.

* * *

Once they were inside Snape's office, he set the box of his things down on his desk and surveyed his surroundings. He glanced down at his watch and sighed.

"Tomorrow, then," he said to himself. "Come, Cat," he looked back at Harry as he opened the door to his quarters.

Harry followed him into the kitchen and watched as Snape put a helping of tuna fish on a small plate. He trailed after Snape as he went into the sitting room and set the tuna on the sofa next to him. Harry jumped up and began to eat the tuna, jumping slightly when Snape let out a loud, "Damn that man!"

"Rowrr!" Harry yelped.

"Sorry, Cat," Snape rubbed Harry briefly behind the ears. "He infuriates me."

Harry went back to eating the tuna.

"Acting like he doesn't know; that it doesn't drive me crazy," Snape sounded like he was talking half to himself and half to Harry. "And now I'm going to have to put up with him for another year."

"Mrowrr?" Harry had finished his tuna.

"I know, Cat, it is unfair; at least someone sees it my way," Snape flicked his wand and Harry heard the dish clatter in the sink. Snape took Harry in his hands and held him up level with his face. "It would have been so much easier if I had just died. None of this would be happening and everyone could go about their lives, and I wouldn't have to deal with…with this."

Harry's eyes widened. Snape wished he had died? Harry didn't understand. He figured that might make sense if Snape hadn't been cleared, if he'd had to go into hiding or was spending the rest of his life in Azkaban, but Snape was free. He had a job and was safe and could go about living his life like he wanted to. Harry and the Order had seen to that. Why would Snape wish he were dead? What was so awful about his life now that he wanted it to be over? _Wait_, Harry thought, replaying Snape's words in his mind. _'And now I'm going to have to put up with him for another year.'_ Snape wanted to be dead because he had to teach Harry for another year? He hated Harry so much that he would rather die than have to deal with him for just a few months?

"Yowl!" Harry shrieked in anger. Snape frowned and looked at Harry.

"What's wrong, Cat?" Snape inspected him. "Are you hurt?"

_Of course I'm hurt, you great bastard_, Harry thought to himself. _I just found out someone hates me so much they'd rather be dead than have to be around me for a few months. And now I have to spend those months pretending I don't know any of this!_

Harry began to squirm and Snape finally put him back down on the couch. Harry promptly jumped down onto the floor and went over to the door, scratching to be let out.

Snape got a slightly disappointed look on his face as he stood. "Was it something I said?" he drawled.

He opened the door for Harry and then followed him to the office door, where Harry scratched again. "I see how it is, Cat," Snape said with a put-upon sigh, "using me for my tuna. Very well, you may go. I'm sure you'll come back when you're good and hungry."

Harry streaked out the door as soon as it was open and ran as fast as he could back to the common room. He had barely transformed when he felt the hot tears prickle at the sides of his eyes. He ran up to his room and flung himself face down on the bed, grimacing when his glasses smashed against his face. He ripped them off and punched his pillow twice, furiously. It was so unfair! How could anyone hate someone else this much? And no one would believe him, if he tried to tell. And he couldn't let on how he knew; that would probably get him expelled. His tears soaked his pillow as he raged at the thought of bearing the brunt of Snape's hatred for the entire school year. He knew he wouldn't be treated fairly. He knew he wouldn't get a decent education in Snape's class. The more he thought about it, the more he resolved to not put himself through that torture. Tomorrow, he decided, he would go ask Professor McGonagall if someone had to actually take 7th year Potions in order to sit the exam. He felt fairly confident that between his new-found studiousness and Hermione's help that he could at least manage an "A" on his Potions NEWT, even without the class.

Feeling determined, he changed into his pajamas and got under the covers. He tossed and turned for quite a while, but eventually managed to fall into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm so happy with the reviews I've been getting! I'm glad people are liking the story. Enjoy this chapter!

* * *

"I don't understand what you're asking, Potter," McGonagall folded her hands on the desk and gave Harry a confused look.

"Could I take the Potions NEWT without having actually been in 7th year Potions?" Harry retried.

"How can you possibly think you could pass the NEWT without having sat the class?" McGonagall sounded as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well," Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "I know there are copies of old NEWTs in the library, and I could study on my own, and I'm sure Hermione would be willing to help me," he paused. "I'm sure I could at least manage an "Acceptable" on it if I were teaching myself."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Why don't you want to take the class, Potter?"

Harry grimaced. "Can I take the exam without the class?" he tried again.

"You obviously don't dislike Potions enough to not take the class, otherwise you'd not want to take the exam. Your friends will be in the class, so that can't be it. Why are you so eager to become a self-taught student?" Harry got the impression she was deliberately avoiding answering his question.

"Well," his eyes shifted to his knees. "I mean, you know how Professor Snape feels about me. You've seen the way he treats me." He looked back up at McGonagall, whose eyes had narrowed fractionally. "I thought things would be different, now," Harry blurted out. "I thought he might actually be fair now that Voldemort is gone, but you've seen how it's been these past few weeks! He doesn't even want me in his class. I know he only wants to take students with 'Outstandings.' I wouldn't have even been in 6th year Potions if it weren't for Slughorn."

"Professor Snape will be teaching anyone who was in Slughorn's classes the past two years," McGonagall assured him.

Harry knew he couldn't let on that he already knew that. "But that doesn't change how he'll treat me," Harry argued. "Snape hates me, Professor."

"Teachers don't hate their students, Potter," McGonagall said with confidence.

"He doesn't see me as his student," Harry accused. "He sees me at James Potter's son. He hated my father and he hates me. He hates that he had to waste his life protecting me. I won't get a fair shot in his class," Harry pleaded. "You know that!"

McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "You have to take the class, Mr. Potter," she sounded resigned.

Harry's face fell. "I do? Really? I have to?"

"If you want to take the exam, yes. NEWTs are only administered to students who have completed two years of NEWT course studies. There are no exceptions to this rule." There was a look of pity in McGonagall's eyes.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "Doesn't even matter, then. I won't pass the exam with him as my teacher. I may as well not even take the course. It would save me a year of torture."

McGonagall looked like she was debating on whether or not to say whatever thought was in her head. Finally, she leaned forward marginally in her chair and said, "Potter, I shall speak with Professor Snape. You deserve the same chance at your NEWTs as anyone else. Before you decide to drop the course, let me see what I can do."

"Great," Harry snorted. "Another reason for him to hate me. Now he'll think he has to give me special treatment. No offense, Professor, but that would just make things even worse."

McGonagall sighed in agreement. "I'll still see what I can do," she promised.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes in frustration. "Fine," he shrugged, "but I'll probably be better off just dropping the course now. Knowing Snape, he'll set some sort of test early on and kick out everyone who fails." Harry deliberately baited McGonagall with the statement, since he knew she'd forbidden Snape to do so.

"No," she disagreed, "I am not allowing him to do that. He will be required to keep students until semester exams. Any student who does not score 'Exceeds Expectations' on the exams will drop the course."

Harry nodded once. "That'll be me, then. I should just save myself the trouble."

"Potter," she sounded like she was pleading, "give it a bit more time, please. Don't throw away your future like this."

"It's not really my choice, is it?" he asked darkly.

McGonagall looked defeated.

Harry felt guilty. "I'll think about it. I'll let you know after I get back from the Weasley's."

McGonagall nodded. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry stood to leave.

"Don't forget, we're working on the south wall today. We'll see you outside after lunch."

Harry nodded as he turned and left the office.

Harry was on his way down the stone steps when he saw a silvery-blue cat streak by him. He recognized McGonagall's Patronus immediately, and he had a sneaking suspicion whom she'd sent a message to. He pulled out the Marauder's Map and checked to see where Snape was. Unsurprisingly, he was in his office, but moments later, his dot began moving and was clearly headed towards Harry. He shoved the map in his pocket and did a quick check to make sure he was alone, then he transformed into the cat and leapt softly back up the stairs to the shadows of the hall off of the Headmistress's office door. He knew he'd have to time it perfectly, and he knew he risked getting caught, but he figured it was worth it. He decided that if Snape was going to be even more of a bastard to him he'd better at least know what was said to make it worse.

Sure enough, he heard Snape come up the stairs and as he approached the office door Harry held his breath. Snape knocked twice and the door swung open for him. He strode inside and Harry, quicker than a heartbeat, darted in after him, diving underneath the cabinet that stood right next to the door. He heard the door shut behind him. He stayed underneath the cabinet until Snape had gone all the way up to the front of the room. Then, Harry crept out and made his way up closer to the desk, being sure to stay close to the edge of the room and out of sight. Once he was close enough that he was sure he could hear everything, he crawled underneath another cabinet, poked his head out, and got comfortable.

"Yes, Minerva?" Snape sounded impatient.

"Have a seat, Severus," McGonagall waved her arm in front of her.

"I'd rather stand," Snape ground out. "If we could have this conversation quickly, I have things to attend to."

McGonagall pursed her lips and let out a huff of air through her nose. "Yes, Severus, we all know how busy you are. Sit."

Her voice brokered no room for argument, and whether or not it was because she was Headmistress now or because Snape really did respect her on some level, he walked around the chair in front of the desk and took a seat.

"I am concerned about your commitment to teach those students who did not receive an 'Outstanding' on their OWLs, Severus," she began.

Harry couldn't see Snape's face, but he imagined the man's eyebrows would be raised.

She continued. "I am worried that since I have given you the out of dropping students at semester exams, that you will deliberately sabotage the efforts of those students whom you do not deem worthy to be in your class in an effort to dismiss them."

"That accusation," Snape spat in a deadly voice, "is offensive as it is absurd."

"Is it?" she challenged. "The reports of your intimidation of students whom you either see as hopeless cases or those you simply do not like are rather consistent. Adding what I'm sure is insult to injury in making you teach students you would not normally otherwise have to seems like a perfect recipe for inviting favoritism."

"The fact that I do not coddle students, Minerva, seems to be mistaken for some sort of malice. I am nothing if not fair," Snape continued in a haughty tone.

"Now that," McGonagall cut him off, "is not true, and you know it. I've seen the way you treat certain students, Severus. Your grudge against the entire Gryffindor House, in fact, is legendary."

"Oh, of course," Snape sneered, "this is about Potter, isn't it?"

Harry thought McGonagall _had_ been rather transparent. Now he knew Snape was going to have it in for him.

"No," she corrected him, "this is about any student who incurs your displeasure – warranted or not. In the past, your behavior could be explained away as necessary in the current climate. Now, however, that excuse does not exist. Although Albus gave you quite a bit of leeway where this was concerned, I will no longer turn a blind eye to your blatant mistreatment of students who you simply do not like."

McGonagall's eyes flickered down to Snape's lap, where Harry imagined the man's hands must have clenched until his knuckles were white.

"Might I remind you, Severus," she said more gently, "that you do not have to remain here as a teacher."

"I believe," Snape ground out through his clenched teeth, "we've already discussed my limited opportunities for employment outside this castle."

"Well," she pressed her lips into a thin line, "while you remain here, you will conduct yourself in a manner of which I approve."

"I certainly hope you do not expect me to be _nice_ to Potter?" Snape said with forced civility.

"This is not just about Potter," she insisted.

"Of course not," Snape retorted sarcastically.

"But no, I do not expect you to be 'nice' to anyone. But I do expect you to approach each class with the expectation that _all_ of your students can learn and have the ability to succeed if given the opportunity."

"And how do you plan to explain this sudden change in my personality?" Snape challenged.

"I believe most will assume that with Voldemort gone and your need to keep up certain appearances removed, that you have allowed yourself to present your true demeanor," she responded confidently.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to fool everyone so easily," his tone was derisive.

"I have full confidence in your acting abilities, Severus. Your powers of deception are legendary," she said strongly.

Snape stood. "Can I presume our discussion is at an end?"

"It is," she nodded, standing as well. "And Severus?"

"What now?" he was impatient.

"I'd like to see that attitude change begin immediately," she inclined her head knowingly.

"Yes, Potter, of course, how silly of me to forget the fragile Golden Boy Wonder. I'll be sure not to offend his delicate sensibilities," Snape's voice was snide.

"Only around him, Severus. You're free to hate him as much as you like in private."

"Oh, if only you knew," his voice was silken with danger.

"Go," she shooed him away. "I shall see you at lunch."

Harry realized suddenly that he needed to get closer to the door, so he darted out from under his cover and prayed he wouldn't be seen until he could get under the cabinet next to the door. Snape must have glared at McGonagall an extra second, because he didn't turn until Harry was safely hidden. Snape strode to the door and it opened for him; Snape left, with Harry following after him silently, undetected. He waited until Snape had disappeared until he went down the stone steps himself, and then, checking again to make sure he was alone, he transformed back into his human self. He glanced at his watch and realized it was lunch time, so he made his way to the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry was just digging into his dessert when he heard the click of boots come up and stop behind him.

"Potter," Snape's voice sounded as though it were taking every ounce of energy he had to not sound full of loathing, "you will be helping me in my lab this afternoon instead of fixing the south wall. I expect you down there in ten minutes."

Without waiting for an answer, Snape strode away, his robes snapping behind him. Harry looked up at the head table and made eye contact with McGonagall, who nodded encouragingly. Harry wasn't sure if she'd suggested the idea to Snape or if Snape had come up with it on his own, but apparently, Snape seemed to be obeying the Headmistress's command to treat Harry with less disdain. Not wanting to test Snape's limits, Harry finished up quickly and made his way down to the dungeons.

* * *

"Come in," Snape barked when Harry knocked once on the door.

Harry slid inside and hovered at the back of the room.

"Come up here, Potter," Snape commanded harshly. "I haven't all day."

Harry made his way up past the tables and chairs scattered throughout the classroom. It was in relative disarray. Once Harry had reached Snape's desk, his eyes found the floor and his hands began to fidget.

"You will look at me when I speak to you, Mr. Potter," Snape's voice caused Harry's eyes to snap up. "You will listen closely to what I am about to say, and you will not interrupt me."

Harry nodded, uncomfortably keeping eye contact with Snape.

"I have been ordered to treat all students with," Snape paused, a sneer forming on his lips, "fairness. No matter how I may feel about certain," Snape emphasized the word, "students."

Harry knew that the pause Snape gave was a deliberate trap for Harry to interrupt him. Harry stayed silent.

"As such," he continued with obvious effort to remain civil, "you will notice that my attitude toward you is changed. Rest assured that is due to the mandate I have received and for absolutely no other reason."

Harry wasn't sure Snape was done, so he didn't speak.

"Do you understand, Potter?" Snape's mouth still twisted around Harry's last name as though it were poisonous to utter.

Harry couldn't stop himself before he responded, "You still hate me. Right. Got it."

Snape glared at him for a moment, searching Harry's face for something, then sat back with a small huff. "You'll be helping me put my classroom back together today, Potter. Flitwick assured me that you were able to perform such a simple task."

"Why don't you have your Slytherins helping you, sir?" Harry asked without thinking. He knew there were three Slytherin students at the castle this summer.

Snape's lip curled up in disdain. "My Slytherins are assisting with tasks that require a modicum of talent."

Harry's face clouded over with indignation.

"I've been instructed to be fair," Snape's face twisted with evil. "I was not forbidden from being honest."

Harry's fists clenched by his sides. He was going to have to help Snape. All afternoon. And if he didn't finish today, he was certain the man would having him helping tomorrow, too. He suspected that McGonagall would ask him how Snape treated him while he worked, so he figured that Snape wouldn't make the time too miserable for him. But still, he knew that no matter how Snape acted on the outside, the hate was still there. He knew, and Snape knew he knew. Every time he looked at Snape, he knew the man would be mocking him. Every word spoken without ridicule, every look that wasn't a glare, it was fake. Beneath it hid the most intense loathing. As if he'd used Legilimency to read Harry's mind, Snape's mouth twisted into a feral grin.

"I see we understand each other," Snape leaned forward to pick up a quill. "Now get to work."

Harry turned away from the desk and surveyed the room. He decided the easiest thing to do would be to put the tables and chairs back to rights. He started with the table closest to the front of the room and dragged it into its proper place. The legs screeched across the floor.

"For Merlin's sake!" Snape growled. "You're an of-age wizard, Potter! Use your magic to do that. I expect you to be able to complete your work in silence."

Harry glared up at Snape, but the man had already gone back to whatever it was he'd been doing at his desk. Harry raised his wand and was about to mutter an incantation to move the chairs back where they belonged when he caught himself. Snape wanted silence. That meant Harry would have to use non-verbal spells. _Great_, Harry thought to himself. This wasn't something he'd been particularly good at when they began learning it in 6th year. He wondered if Snape remembered that. Probably. He'd just have to really concentrate, and it would probably just take him a bit longer to do the work. Which meant he'd probably be down here tomorrow. Wonderful.

Harry had been working for a while. He'd gotten all the tables and chairs aligned and all the cauldrons cleaned and reshelved. He'd gone through and reorganized the student ingredients and was about to move on to repairing the damaged equipment when he heard Snape clear his throat. Harry turned around to face him.

"That's enough, Potter. Go clean up for dinner," Snape had gotten up from his desk and was starting toward the front of the classroom.

"Um, all right," Harry made his way to the door as well. Once he was in the hallway and Snape had joined him, Harry looked up awkwardly and asked, "So, I'll come back tomorrow then and finish up?"

Snape looked at him with an expression that needed no translation.

"Right, so, I'll be back tomorrow," Harry didn't wait for a response before he turned and headed off toward Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

On his way to dinner, Harry ran into Professor McGonagall.

"I saw Professor Snape had you helping him restore his classroom today," she began. "How was it?"

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said truthfully. "He just ignored me. Big improvement, though, for him," he added quickly. The last thing he wanted was McGonagall lecturing Snape again about his treatment of Harry.

The Professor gave him a disapproving look. "Look, I don't know what you said to him," Harry lied, "but he didn't do anything to make me miserable. If he keeps acting this way, I'll be fine in his class."

McGonagall didn't seem convinced, though.

"I'm going back to finish the classroom tomorrow," Harry told her. "If it had been too bad, I'd beg you to get me out of it."

She nodded curtly. "So you'll take the class?" she confirmed.

"I'll take the class," Harry promised.

"Very well," she conceded. "I shall keep you on the roster."

With that, they reached the doors of the Great Hall and they walked inside. Harry glanced up at the head table and Snape was already up there. Harry saw Snape's eyes flit between McGonagall and him, and a look of fury rose on Snape's face. Harry looked up at McGonagall, who gave a reproachful glare to Snape. When Harry looked back up at the head table, Snape's face was blank and he was staring at some point at the back of the Hall while he sipped from his glass. Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, across from the other student again, but she seemed just as intimidated of him as before, and they didn't make eye contact during the whole meal.

Once he was done, Harry stood to leave the Hall, thinking about the coming morning when he let out a sigh of resignation and thought that at least if he could make it to the end of the week he'd be at the Burrow for the next two. He chanced a look back up at the head table and caught Snape's eye, but was puzzled to see a look on the man's face that was unidentifiable. It was just there for a second, though, before the blank, impassive mask was back in place, and Harry turned away, making is way back to the tower.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I know this is a somewhat shorter chapter, but it really was the best place to end it. I'll try to write more soon. Enjoy!_

* * *

It was the last night before Harry was leaving for the Burrow. He was definitely ready for a break. He felt like a house elf, helping rebuild the castle and fix up professors' classrooms. He was also looking forward to some time where he could not study but not feel too guilty for sitting around and doing nothing. He knew he'd be plenty occupied at Ron's. And he was nervous about seeing Ginny. He hadn't been able to spend any time alone with her after the battle before everyone left, and he hadn't written her over the summer. He didn't know what he would say. He could imagine Hermione rolling her eyes at him and saying, 'Boys,' in that tone she had. But Harry knew he wasn't any good at being in a relationship. Cho had been an unmitigated disaster. He'd already incurred Ron's wrath once for breaking up with Ginny before they left on their horcrux hunt. In fact, he wasn't even really sure he and Ginny were back together. She'd kissed him that once before he'd left, and then once during the battle, but…did that mean they were a couple again? So that brought him back to not writing. Really, what could he say in a letter that wouldn't just sound completely stupid?

_Dear Ginny,_

_I know we kissed that one time for my birthday and then that other time during the battle, but I'm not really sure we are a thing. Are we a thing again, now?_

_Cheers,_

_Harry_

Right. That would definitely earn a Hermione eye roll.

So Harry was restless. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, the moon casting shadows across his covers (he had no need to draw the curtains closed, since he was alone in the dorm). He decided he'd take a stroll as a cat, just to have something to do. He was again reminded of how nice it was not to have to slink around under the invisibility cloak. The only drawback was that he didn't have access to his wand or the Marauder's Map as a cat. He got up to open the bedroom door and then without any effort at all, he changed into the cat and left.

Most students probably assumed that the castle was quiet at night. They'd be wrong. Harry had always known that, though, since he'd been sneaking around under his cloak since Christmas of his first year at Hogwarts. Not only was there the occasional teacher (did they ever sleep?), but there were the ghosts, who seemed oblivious to the time of day, and there were the portraits. The portraits were reasonably quiet during the day, or at least in comparison to the din the students caused, the portraits seemed quiet. But at night, they chattered away unconcernedly. Some of them slept, of course, but many of them carried on meaningless conversations with whoever else was in their frame, or even traveling to a different frame to have a companion.

Harry had been meandering around the castle hallways, passing under picture frames, hearing fragments of conversations that were so loud in the deserted hallways he couldn't hear the soft steps come up behind him.

"Cat," Snape's voice sounded amused. "Out for a midnight stroll?"

Harry's head snapped back to look at Snape. He tried to frown, but was pretty sure cats couldn't really do that. He didn't want to be found by Snape. Now he knew he'd have to go down to Snape's quarters, because he figured Snape would be suspicious if the cat he'd had in his rooms twice suddenly ran away from him. And the last thing he wanted to do was alert Snape that there might be something unusual going on.

"Rowrr," Harry answered him.

"Looking for mice?" Snape walked up to Harry and squatted down, taking Harry's head in both hands and massaging around his ears and jaw and neck. Harry felt the purr coming before he could stop it, and his body vibrated involuntarily. "Why don't you leave those to Mrs. Norris, mmm?" Snape scooped Harry up quickly and began walking. "Don't worry," he smirked, "I'll let you leave when you're done eating my food."

Harry resigned himself to whatever amount of time he would have to spend with Snape and didn't fight back. Instead, he found himself thinking how odd it was that, held so close to Snape's side, he could feel the warmth of Snape's body through his robes, and although they were walking at a brisk pace, he didn't feel at all concerned that Snape might drop him. Snape had sure, confident hands. A product of being a Potions Master, Harry supposed.

"You can keep me company while I edit," Snape explained to cat-Harry as they rounded the corner before Snape's office.

Snape wanted company. Snape had kidnapped a stray cat to keep him company. Snape was weird.

Snape set Harry down as soon as they were inside his private rooms. This time, Harry didn't dart underneath anything, but followed Snape into the kitchen, where he waited for Snape to get the tuna. He sat staring up at Snape, his tail flicking. Once the scent of the tuna hit his nose, he unconsciously licked his lips.

"Quite the patient cat, aren't you?" Snape smiled sideways at Harry. "Perhaps you're not a stray. Maybe one of the students' who are here over the summer. You wouldn't be so well-behaved if you were a stray, would you?"

_If I was, would you kick me out?_ Harry wondered to himself. "Mrowr," he said to Snape.

Snape carried the plate of tuna out to the sitting area and once again set it on the couch next to him after he had sat down. Harry didn't wait for further invitation before he leapt up and began eating the food. Snape silently summoned a periodical and conjured a glass of what Harry assumed was wine and then began to read.

Suddenly, the flames in the fireplace flashed bright green.

"Severus?" a face appeared in the flames.

Snape stood immediately and went over to crouch down by the fireplace.

"Severus, are you there?" the face said again.

"Yes," Snape answered.

"Might I come through? I've something to discuss with you," the man (for Harry now realized it was a man's voice) asked.

"Yes, yes, come through," Snape rose and dusted off his trousers as he stood back to make room for whoever was about to come through the floo.

Harry's stomach nearly lost its tuna when he saw Lucius Malfoy step out onto the hearth rug.

"Thank you," Lucius said as he brushed the ash off his shoulders.

Snape nodded, sitting back down next to Harry. Lucius didn't wait to be asked to sit before lowering himself into the armchair across from the sofa. A smirk appeared on Lucius's face.

"I didn't know you had a cat, Severus," Lucius made eye contact with Harry, who was fighting everything inside him not to bound over and claw the man's eyes out.

Snape glanced down at Harry. "Not mine, strictly. A stray who wandered in from the forest. Comes in to eat from time to time."

"What's his name?" Lucius asked.

Snape looked back down at Harry thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," he mused. "I suppose I could call him 'He-Who-Has-Not-Yet-Been-Named'." *

Lucius snorted. "He is black, you could call him Dark Lord."

"I call him Cat," Snape returned Lucius's snort.

"Yes, well, enough of your cat," Lucius crossed his legs elegantly. Harry figured that anything the Malfoys did would seem elegant. Lucius could probably pick his nose and make it seem practically royal. "I find myself in a dilemma," he began. "I believe you could be of some assistance to me."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"As you know," Lucius continued, seeming just slightly uncomfortable. Harry figured asking for help was probably in the top ten on the list of humiliating things for a Malfoy to do. "As part of the terms of my," he cleared his throat, "agreement."

Snape made a soft sound and crossed his arms.

"My permits have been revoked. I need to have them reinstated. If I cannot trade, my business will be bankrupt by the end of the year." Lucius looked like he might be sick.

"I fail to see how I could be of any assistance, Lucius," Snape stated blandly.

"I need someone who can influence the new Minister to reconsider these particular terms of my agreement," Lucius explained.

"I fear you overestimate my clout, my friend," Snape smiled thinly. "There are few beyond the small Order of the Phoenix circle who would listen to an argument from me for leniency on a Death Eater."

Lucius's hand curled tightly on the head of his cane. Harry wondered if he'd managed to reattach his wand to it.

"Shacklebolt was a member of the Order, was he not?" Lucius ground out.

"He was," Snape affirmed, "but I doubt he'd be open to changing the terms for the Death Eater that housed the Dark Lord for the many months leading up to the final battle."

Lucius's face was a thundercloud.

"In fact," Snape continued, "I was under the impression that parole itself was the court's way of showing you mercy. Wasn't your original sentence five years in Azkaban?"

"Yes," Lucius hissed, "but what good is being out of Azkaban if I cannot run my business? My permits cannot be reinstated for another two years! I'll have no source of income!"

"Find someone else to obtain the permits and run the business while you serve the terms of your parole," Severus shrugged in suggestion.

"Who would want to become the head of a lucrative business for just two years and then give everything up?" Lucius sounded like he thought Snape's idea was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"I'm sure you could find someone," Snape said placidly. "Surely you have friends at the Ministry that you could call favors in from?"

Lucius gave Snape a look that held some sort of secret communication. Snape shook his head and almost laughed.

"Not me, Lucius," Snape protested. "I've no interest in becoming involved with you. With your business."

"Severus," Lucius seemed unaccustomed to rejection. Harry wasn't surprised. "You," he growled.

"I don't owe you anything," Snape cut him off. "I testified on your family's behalf to keep all three of you out of prison. That more than covered any debt there may have been between us."

Lucius scowled openly at Snape. "Think of Draco," Lucius finally tried. "Without being able to work for me, he'll have nowhere to go once he finishes with this year."

"Draco will manage just fine, I'm sure," Snape sounded completely unconcerned. "He's always been quite resourceful."

"And what of Narcissa? What about her comfort?" Lucius tried not to sound desperate.

"I was not under the impression that the Wizengamot had forbade her from working," Snape crossed his legs, leaning a bit further back on the sofa.

Lucius's eyebrows rose up near his hairline. "Narcissa? Work? Have you lost your mind?"

"She's an intelligent witch," Snape sounded as if he was telling Lucius something the man didn't already know. "And her reputation is not quite as tarnished as yours or Draco's. She could find someone willing to employ her."

Lucius fumed for a moment. "I had expected more from you, Severus."

"I'm not sure why," Severus drawled. "You made the nature of our friendship perfectly clear after you found out about my Vow with Narcissa."

"You did not need to interfere!" Lucius whispered furiously.

"Actually, I did," Severus disagreed. "Lucius, out of respect for the relationship we have had over the past few decades, I did what I could to keep you, your son, and your wife out of Azkaban. I do hope that we continue to remain friendly in the coming years. But you are mistaken if you think that my position – or I – can be manipulated to suit your ambitions any more. I have great faith that you will land on your feet."

Lucius looked mutinous. Both men were silent for a few moments. Finally, Lucius composed himself.

"I see. Well, Severus, do you think you could at least keep an eye out for Draco this year? I can only imagine what he will have to deal with while he's back here. Just having to deal with Potter will likely tax his restraint, never mind the other students who like likely have it out for him as well."

At the mention of Harry's name, Harry felt Snape tense slightly.

"I'm sure Draco will have no difficulty handling Potter, or any other student. But yes, I will keep an eye on him," Snape agreed.

Lucius nodded. "I'll be on my way, then."

Snape stood and Lucius followed. Lucius made his way to the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder. He gave Snape a scrutinizing look and Snape gave a thin smile back. Then Lucius threw the powder into the grate and a second later, he was gone.

Snape let out a suffering sigh and turned back to Harry. "Tuna not to your liking?" he nodded at the half-finished plate.

Harry had been so engrossed in the conversation he'd forgotten to eat. He didn't want Snape to suspect anything, so he turned back to the fish and hastily ate the rest. He couldn't believe the way Snape had acted toward Lucius! He'd expected that they would have been best friends. He thought Snape would be happy to help Lucius in any way he could. He couldn't believe that Snape had basically said he didn't care if the Malfoy family became destitute. Of course he'd said he would watch out for Draco. That didn't surprise Harry at all. He knew McGonagall had ordered Snape to be fair, but he was sure Snape would find a way to favor Malfoy anyway. He didn't doubt that Malfoy would be able to get away with taunting Harry, harassing him, and ruining his work. Harry grimaced at the thought.

Harry watched as the empty plate in front of him vanished and then he heard it clank in the sink. Snape didn't sit back down on the sofa, though, instead he headed toward his office door. He didn't invite Harry to come along, but he left the door open behind him. Soon, Harry heard soft, classical music from the office and he jumped down off the sofa and made his way toward Snape to see what he was doing.

Snape was at his desk leaning back in his chair. He had his wine glass in one hand, swirling it around slowly. The other hand was resting on the arm of the chair. His eyes were closed and his head was resting against the head of the chair. He breathed in deeply and then sighed.

Harry just watched him, feeling confused. It was like there were two Snapes. He didn't understand how one person could have two separate personalities. He knew Snape was a good actor; he'd fooled Voldemort into thinking he was loyal, but Harry'd always figured that Voldemort (and anyone else Snape knew) got to see the same Snape that Harry had seen every day since he'd met the man September 1st, 1991. But this Snape – the Snape that Cat saw – he was a completely different person. He didn't scowl, he didn't insult, he didn't ridicule. He was relaxed. He was funny. He pet and fed cats. And it made Harry angry. Snape was capable of being civil. He was perfectly able to be nice. He was sarcastic, sure, but he could function without being mean or cruel. And now that the war was over, now that Snape didn't have to pretend to be loyal to Voldemort anymore, there was no reason to be a prick to anyone. Unless Snape was just so much of a bastard that he wanted to make anyone who he didn't like's life completely miserable. Unfortunately, Harry knew Snape was exactly that much of a bastard.

Harry was snapped out of his reverie when Snape shifted forward and put his wine glass down on his desk. He picked up a quill and bent over his desk, scratching corrections on the paper in front of him. Curious as to what he was doing, Harry walked around to the front of the desk and hopped up. Snape looked up at him, smiled, and then bent back down and continued working. Harry looked over what was on the paper. It looked like potion recipes. He looked at the notes Snape was making. Harry realized they were the notes from the Half-Blood Prince's textbook. Snape's textbook. Snape was editing potions based on his younger self's adjustments. Why? Surely Snape had all that memorized by now. He probably brewed most of those potions once a week. Why would he need to edit them?

"Rowrr?" Harry pawed at the paper.

"Editing my work, Cat," Snape explained to Harry. He put down the quill and folded his hands atop the desk, looking seriously into Harry's eyes. "Perhaps now that my reputation is on the mend, someone might be interested in publishing my work."

Harry was sure if he'd been himself his jaw would have dropped to the floor. As it was, he simply licked his lips.

"Probably foolish, I know," Snape nodded. "You'd read it, wouldn't you, Cat?" Snape's hand snaked up and began rubbing Harry behind the ears. Harry leaned into the touch instinctively. It wasn't like he _wanted_ Snape petting him. It wasn't like he liked it. Well, cat-Harry liked it, but Harry-Harry definitely didn't. "Well, you'll keep my secret, at any rate," Snape smiled smugly and stopped petting Harry. "Of course, you're free to tell your friends," he allowed. "But just the cats," Snape admonished. "Let's not have you spreading my secrets among all the species."

Harry's heart rate quickened. Would he keep Snape's secrets? He had to. He couldn't tell anyone how he had found out these things about Snape. He had to keep Snape's secrets, because Harry had secrets of his own.

* * *

_A/N: * This line comes from a fanfiction from one of my most favorite authors, oliver snape. The story is "A Grim Old Cat" and this line is honestly the funniest thing I think I've ever, ever read in any fanfiction ever. I just had to use it, but I can't claim it as my own, so I hope oliver snape isn't too furious with me...I did give credit! _


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I hope all my readers in the States had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend! I will do my best to get some chapters cranked out this week. Don't worry, there is more Cat-Harry to come!_

* * *

"Harry!" Ron rushed out of the house to greet Harry as he Apparated onto the front lawn of the Burrow.

Harry broke into a huge grin. "Hey, Ron!"

"Bags are already here, up in my room," Ron nodded his head at one of the upper windows.

"Is Hermione here?" Harry asked, walking with Ron towards the front door.

"Not yet," Ron shook his head. "She won't get here 'til next week."

"Harry, dear!" Molly Weasley came at Harry, arms outstretched, and swept him into a giant hug as soon as he walked through the door. "So happy to have you here!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said over her shoulder as he returned her hug. "Thanks for having me."

"Let's go upstairs, mate," Ron motioned for Harry to follow him.

They both headed up the wooden stairs and went into Ron's room. Ron flopped down on the bed and Harry sat himself on the stool next to the nightstand.

"So how's it been at Hogwarts?" Ron asked him.

"Pretty boring," Harry admitted.

"What've you been doing all summer?" Ron propped himself up on his elbows.

"Mostly helping rebuild the castle; helping professors fix up their classrooms," Harry told him.

"Sounds fun," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I've done a bit of studying," Harry admitted.

"Studying? On holiday?" Ron sounded incredulous. "Don't tell Hermione, she'll think she's finally started to rub off on you!"

Harry smiled.

"How many other students are staying there over the summer?" Ron asked.

"I dunno, a handful," Harry tried to count in his head. "There's one other Gryffindor and three Slytherin, I think. There's a couple of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, too. Not a lot."

"And all the professors are there, too?" Ron wondered.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"Remind me never to be a teacher," Ron snorted. "Don't even get a summer holiday."

"Well, they probably normally would," Harry reasoned, "but with having to repair the castle, I think they all just had to stay and make sure it got done so the school could open on time."

"And they let you help?" Ron sounded interested.

"Yeah, McGonagall had me repairing different parts of the castle walls," Harry explained.

"Wow," Ron seemed impressed. "I guess if the castle falls apart this year we know who to blame," he teased.

"Yeah, that was pretty much Snape's take on it, too," Harry muttered.

"Oh, that's right, he's there, too, isn't he?" Ron grimaced.

"Yeah," Harry affirmed, "he's there."

"So has he been awful or has he just left you alone?" Ron sat up.

"Well, the first part of the summer was terrible. I mean, I know he hated my dad and was in love with my mum, but I thought that since Voldemort was gone he'd at least be, I dunno, decent," Harry shrugged.

"You'd think," Ron agreed.

"But he just kept being Snape," Harry explained. "He really, really hates me."

"I think he hates everyone, mate," Ron sympathized.

"No," Harry shook his head. "He really hates _me_. I – I overheard him talking to some other professors," Harry lied, knowing he couldn't tell Ron how he really came by his information. "He said he wishes he'd died rather than have to teach me for another year."

Ron's eyes widened. "Woah," he breathed, "that's rough."

"But then McGonagall made him promise to be fair this year, and not to pick on me. He was so pissed about that, but ever since she talked to him about it, he's sort of just ignored me. He even had me clean his classroom but didn't say more than two words to me the whole time," Harry said.

"She's making him be fair? Yeah, I'll bet that'll make him mad. Does he have to be that way just with you? Or is it with everyone?" Ron asked.

"Everyone," Harry answered. "He didn't want to take anyone in his NEWTs Potions who didn't get an 'O' on their OWLs, but she said he'd have to teach anyone who was in Slughorn's classes for the past 2 years."

Ron let out a low whistle. "Bloody hell, she's got bollocks of steel to tell him that."

"And then he wanted to set an exam a few weeks in and drop anyone who didn't score an 'O' on it," Harry continued. Ron's face fell. "But she told him he couldn't," Harry finished.

"Poor bloke," Ron shook his head in mock sympathy. "I almost feel bad for him."

"She did agree to let him drop students after semester exams if they don't get an 'E,' though, so we'll have to make sure we work really hard to stay in the class," Harry told him.

"I suppose doing some studying over holidays doesn't seem so bad, now," Ron conceded.

"Yeah, we have to have a NEWT in Potions to be Aurors," Harry reminded him. "But at least now we should be able to do reasonably well since Snape won't be favoring the Slytherins or sabotaging our work."

Ron's face lit up. "I'd love to see him give Malfoy detention!"

"I'm not sure he'll be that fair," Harry sighed.

"Probably not," Ron agreed. "Hey," he smiled, "it's a nice day out, wanna go play some Quidditch?"

"Sure," Harry agreed.

They made their way downstairs and Harry froze on the bottom step when he saw Ginny in the kitchen at the sink, her back towards him.

Ron noticed Harry's hesitation, and then looked between him and Ginny. He shook his head in resignation and then clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I'll just be outside getting things ready," he said, heading out the door and leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

At hearing Ron's voice, Ginny turned around and looked at Harry. "Hi, Harry," she greeted him.

Harry stepped down off the bottom stair. "Hi," he responded back.

"Have you had a nice holiday at Hogwarts?" she dried her hands on a dish towel on the counter.

"Bit boring, really," Harry admitted.

"Ron says you're all coming back this year for your NEWTs," she looked like she wanted to take a step towards Harry, but didn't, leaving the span of the kitchen between them.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Have you had a nice holiday as well?" he asked politely.

"Bit boring, really," she smirked. "Glad you're here, though. It's good to see you," she said genuinely.

"Good to see you, too," Harry agreed.

There was an awkward silence.

"So, erm," Harry began uncomfortably, "are you going to come out and play Quidditch with us?"

Ginny shook her head. "I've got some reading to do," she explained. "Studying for NEWTs."

Harry nodded. "I've been doing a lot of that, too."

They both began moving at the same time, around the kitchen table. They ended up right across from each other by the front door.

"Well," Harry stared at her awkwardly, "have a good time reading."

Ginny looked like she was feeling just as uncomfortable. "Have fun with Ron."

Harry made a move toward her, and Ginny mirrored him, both of them coming at each other stiffly. Harry finally got close enough to give her a stilted hug, which she tentatively returned.

They separated quickly, and Harry stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Erm, right then," he fumbled.

"Right," she seemed just as embarrassed.

Harry turned and opened the door to go out and meet Ron and Ginny slid by him, making her way towards the stairs.

"Well, that could have gone better," Harry mumbled to himself once he was outside.

"So?" Ron asked, hovering on his broom in the field just beyond the garden.

"What?" Harry asked.

"How'd it go with Ginny?" Ron demanded.

"Oh," Harry flushed. "I dunno."

"Well, are you back together now?" Ron asked.

"I don't really know," Harry admitted. "Maybe…I – I don't know."

Ron chuckled. "You'll figure it out, mate. Just don't break her heart."

Harry's eyes widened. "No! I – I mean, I wouldn't do that!"

Ron shook his head with a smile. "I know; that's not what I meant. Come on, let's play."

Harry, glad to be free of the Ginny subject, summoned his broom and hopped on, racing after Ron and the charmed quaffle.

* * *

Harry was sitting at the dinner table with Ron, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, tucking into a delicious meal when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," he said, rising and making his way over to let in the visitor.

"Hullo, Harry!" Remus Lupin exclaimed with a smile, scooping Harry up into a bear hug.

"Hiya, Harry!" Tonks waved at him, beaming.

"Professor! Tonks! I, why are you here? I mean, how are you here?" Harry felt confused, but wasn't quite sure why.

"Of course we're here, Harry," Lupin made his way in past Harry. "We wouldn't miss your birthday!"

"Where's," Harry looked both of them up and down, "where's Teddy?"

Tonks waved her hand dismissively. "He's with my mother. Have we arrived in time for supper?" she asked brightly.

"Yeah, save some for us!" George suddenly appeared on the stairs.

"We want whatever mum's cooked up for Harry's birthday!" Fred came down right behind him.

"Fred!" Harry cried, looking around at everyone, wondering why he was the only one who seemed surprised to see Fred in the kitchen.

"Well, sit back down, Harry," Mrs. Weasley motioned for Harry to come back to the table.

"Yeah, we can't stay long," Tonks explained.

"No, we can't," Lupin agreed.

"We really have to go soon," Fred nodded.

"Go?" Harry looked around at all three of them. "But…but you just got here!"

"But we can't stay forever," Lupin said, taking a bite of a roll.

"Time and tide, right mate?" Fred winked at Harry.

"Take care of Teddy for us, will you, Harry?" Tonks smiled at him.

"Well, sure, but aren't you…" Harry began.

"We really have to go," Lupin leaned over to Tonks and whispered.

"Right," she nodded once. She picked up a roll. "One for the road, then."

She and Lupin stood up from the table and walked back to the door. Fred got up and followed them.

"But you just got here!" Harry protested, going after them.

"Bye Harry!" Tonks smiled as she opened the door and walked outside. Lupin went after her and Fred left as well, the door slamming in Harry's face.

"Wait!" Harry cried, opening the door. But there was no one there.

"Harry, dear," Molly said cheerfully, "come sit back down and finish your dinner."

Harry looked at her, astonished.

Harry's eyes snapped open, seeing only darkness. He was twisted around in his bedclothes, and had a fine sheen of sweat on him. _A dream_, he thought to himself. _It was just a dream_.

But it had seemed so real, seeing Lupin and Tonks and Fred again. The memories of his friends' funerals came rushing into his head, and he could only think about how none of them would ever sit at the Burrow's dinner table again. He felt the prickle of tears in the corner of his eyes and he turned over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow as he mourned.

* * *

Harry and Ginny had successfully avoided being alone together again for several days. Harry felt bad about it; he figured he should be the one to make the first move – to smooth things over. He knew she was wondering what was going on between them. But he was being a coward, sticking next to Ron like glue and only catching her eye here and there. He had finally worked up the resolve to do something when he found himself in front of Ginny as she was leaving the chicken coop.

"Do you want to take a walk?" she asked him.

"Er, sure," he agreed.

They walked side by side into the fields beyond the garden. Harry thought about reaching out to take her hand, but stopped himself.

"So, Voldemort's gone," Ginny began after several minutes of silence.

"Wha…oh, yeah, he is," Harry affirmed.

"No one is out to get you anymore," she continued.

"No, not that I know of," Harry chuckled weakly.

"No one is going to use your friends to get to you," she went on.

"Probably not, no," Harry looked sideways at her.

"If you wanted to, you could have a girlfriend," she pressed on boldly.

Harry's throat went dry.

"Look, Harry," Ginny stopped walking and turned to face Harry. "I get that things might have changed over the past year. I know your feelings for me might have…might be different now."

Harry figured he should say something, but nothing came to mind, so Ginny kept going.

"I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to, I'd be happy to give it another go," she looked down at the ground, her courage seemingly depleted.

"Oh," Harry sensed her vulnerability, "we could, I mean…yeah, if you want. I still…yeah, we can make a go of it."

She looked up at him with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled back. "I missed you, Ginny."

"I missed you too, Harry."

She took a step towards him and he moved in towards her and suddenly they were kissing. He'd kissed her before – lots of times, in fact, but this one wasn't the same. He could tell her feelings were powerful, but he knew his own didn't match hers. He figured it was just because it had been a long time since they'd been together. He hoped it wouldn't take too long for him to feel the same way about her that he had back in his sixth year.

They pulled apart. Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We should get back," she said, taking his hand in hers and starting back towards the house. As they walked, she leaned her head on his shoulder and all Harry could think about was his promise to Ron that he wouldn't break Ginny's heart.

* * *

"Harry!" a large head of bushy brown hair threw itself at Harry and squeezed him tightly. "Happy birthday!"

Hermione had just arrived at the Burrow, and it was the morning of Harry's 18th birthday.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry smiled and hugged her back. "It's good to see you."

"Oh, how have you been, Harry? What have you been doing at Hogwarts all this time?" Hermione fired questions at him, not giving him a chance to answer.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron laughed. "Give him a chance to breathe!"

"Hi, Ron," Hermione blushed. As she extricated herself from Harry and turned to Ron.

"Hi," he said back, blushing as well.

They moved toward each other and embraced in an awkward hug. Harry found himself feeling relieved that it wasn't just him and Ginny that had issues.

It wasn't long before the trio made their way up to Ron's room and were joined shortly by Ginny. Harry retold his summer story as Hermione and Ginny listened with rapt attention.

"Well, you'll have to work extra hard, then, Harry," Hermione said seriously, "now that you don't have Snape's Potions book."

Harry felt mildly insulted. "Now that Snape isn't going to target me anymore, I think I'll do just fine, thanks."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Harry," Hermione apologized. "If he really is going to drop people at the end of the semester, we'd better get started right away. I've brought Advanced Potions as well as the seventh year text. I'm sure your mum would let us brew some potions outside," she looked at Ron hopefully.

"I think she'd be happy to let us do anything that makes us seem more like Percy," Ginny snorted.

"Oh!" Hermione cried. "We could start a study group! Like Dumbledore's Army, but for Potions!"

Ron grimaced.

"But who would we get to run it," Harry pointed out. "None of us is a potions prodigy."

Hermione wasn't deterred. "I don't think we'd need a single leader," she theorized. "I'm sure everyone will have their strengths, and we could all contribute in different ways. We could use the Room of Requirement."

"If it's still there," Ginny reminded them.

"We could have it for anyone in our class or Ginny's," Hermione was glowing with excitement.

"We're not going to have any free time!" Ron whined.

"Well, it's either that, or not having a career, Ronald," Hermione snapped.

Ron pouted, but looked resigned.

Harry decided he'd risk getting on Ron's bad side. "Plus, they have old copies of the NEWTs on file in the library."

"Oh, that's right!" Hermione beamed. "We'll have to make copies of those first thing," she got out a notebook and wrote it down at the end of what seemed to be a long list.

"At least this time we won't have to jinx the sign up paper," Ginny joked.

* * *

"How are you holding up, really?" Hermione asked Harry quietly during a rare moment when they were alone.

He looked surreptitiously at her. "Could be better, I suppose."

She nodded in sympathy.

"I have dreams about them," he admitted. "I keep dreaming that they're alive, and then I wake up and remember they're not and it…it hurts all over again."

"I know," Hermione put her arm around his shoulder. "I think it's like that for all of us."

"And I thought I was over Sirius, but now I'm having dreams about him, too, falling through the veil."

"I think that's understandable," Hermione said soothingly. "Remembering one person brings up memories of others."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment.

"How are things with you and Ginny?" she finally asked him.

"Hm?" Harry turned to look at her. "Oh, all right, I suppose."

"Are you back together?" she took her hand away from his shoulder.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "She wanted to give it another go."

"Did you want to?" Hermione didn't sound judgmental.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I did. I mean, I missed her. I just…things aren't the same, now."

"I know," Hermione looked down at the ground and picked at some of the grass.

"After…after everything we went through, I went through, I'm just not sure how I feel about anyone anymore," he finished quietly.

"We have a lot of healing to do," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah, I just…I don't feel like I really even know myself," Harry admitted. "How can I know how I feel about her if I don't know how I feel about myself?"

Hermione looked at him with a soft smile. "Give it time, Harry. You'll sort it out. She'll understand. She's tougher than you think."

"I – I just think she deserves better," Harry looked back at Hermione.

"Harry," Hermione put a hand on his knee, "you died. You killed the most evil wizard of all time. Everything you've worked for, the whole reason for your life up until now, is done. You're entitled to a little time to process that."

"I guess I didn't think of it like that," Harry grew depressed thinking about it. "Like I had a purpose and now it's over."

"You'll just have to find a new purpose," she said brightly. "Getting ready for the Auror program might be a good place to start."

Harry looked at her sheepishly. "I'm not sure that's what I want to do anymore."

Her eyebrows rose. "Really? I mean, that's…that's okay, but do you have any idea what you do want to do?"

"No," he admitted, "but I know I need to get as many NEWTs as I can to keep my options open."

"That's a good attitude to have," she patted his knee.

Harry smiled sideways at her. "So, how are things between you and Ron?"

Hermione shook her head with a chuckle. "Let's just say you're not the only one who has some issues to work out. I'm not worried, though. Things will be fine. Eventually."

"Yeah, he's probably got a bit to figure out," Harry laughed.

"It's really not a problem, though, with as much time as we're going to have to be spending on school work this year, I'm not sure any of us will have time for much else," she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Like snogging, you mean?" Harry bumped her with his elbow.

"Harry!" she blushed and nudged him with her shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Heh heh, I did quite a bit of writing yesterday, and here is the result: a nice, long chapter for you! Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry was sad to see is time at the Burrow come to an end. It had been a relaxing interlude for him, and he was glad to be able to spend time with his friends without the constant strain of school work. It was doubly sweet because there was no threat of a madman murdering him hanging over his head. Things were still a bit shaky with Ginny, but she was being exceedingly patient. He wondered if Hermione had said anything to her. Probably.

McGonagall had sent an owl to him, instructing him when to Apparate to Hogsmeade and then walk up to the castle where a professor would be waiting to escort him back into the castle. He was packed and ready to go, and he knew his bags would make it to Hogwarts shortly after he did. He said his goodbye's and after refusing, again, yet more snacks from Mrs. Weasley, he disappeared from the front lawn into the pressurized tube that was the feeling of Apparition.

Landing ungracefully, but on his feet, he looked around at a deserted Hogsmeade. He couldn't help remembering that the last time he'd Apparated here it ended up being just a few hours before he died. He thought about stopping by the Hog's Head and saying hello to Aberforth, but he thought that might be a bit much, so he decided against it.

He looked at his watch and noticed he was a few minutes late, based on what McGonagall's letter had instructed, so he hurried through the village and made his way towards the castle. As he approached it, he felt the familiar feeling of warmth spread through him. He was home. Even though he hadn't been completely keen on staying the entire summer, he couldn't deny the relief he felt even after just two weeks away at the Burrow.

The goofy grin on his face was wiped off instantly, however, when he saw the figure waiting for him right outside the front gates.

"Mr. Potter," Snape looked down his nose at Harry. "How kind of you to arrive on time so that the rest of us do not have to waste our day waiting on you." Snape's arms were folded across his chest. "Oh, wait," he glared, "you are late. How silly of me to forget that the entire world revolves around Potter and his own personal schedule."

Harry grit his teeth, determined not to get into a verbal sparring match with Snape. "I'm sorry, sir," he ground out.

"Yes, I'm sure," Snape spun around and waved his wand at the gates, which opened for them. "Keep up," he commanded, striding onto the grounds. "You can make up for your tardiness by assisting me today. The repairs on the castle are nearly complete."

Harry rolled his eyes. Great. More time with Snape. If he didn't know how much the man hated him, he'd think Snape was looking for reasons to spend time with Harry. He suppressed a snort at that.

"And five points from Gryffindor for rolling your eyes at me, Mr. Potter," Snape snapped knowingly.

Harry used every ounce of strength to suppress his outrage.

Harry followed Snape down to the dungeons and into the Potions classroom.

"You will pick up where you left off," Snape instructed him. "Repair the equipment as necessary."

Harry nodded with a single jerk of his head.

"Silently," Snape commanded.

Harry didn't respond to Snape this time, but looked around the room trying to decide where to start. He finally made his way over to a table piled high with what looked to be broken burners, test tubes, and other pieces and parts. He saw Snape go over to his desk and sit down. Harry kept glancing at him every few minutes. Snape had taken up his quill and was marking the papers in front of him. Knowing there weren't any essays for him to grade yet, Harry figured he was working on editing his potions for publishing. Finally, Harry couldn't resist any longer.

"What are you working on, sir?" Harry asked as he set the most recently repaired flask to the right.

Snape's head snapped up so fast it was almost comical. His eyes burned into Harry's but the look on his face was like a stone. His eyes narrowed.

"None of your business, Potter," Snape snapped.

"Sorry, sir," Harry looked back down at the debris on the table. "I just…" he shook his head. "Sorry."

He couldn't articulate why he was interested in what Snape was doing. He just couldn't get over his knowledge of the two Snapes. He couldn't help wondering if he could maybe, somehow, someday, get the Snape he knew as a cat to come out when he interacted with Snape as Harry. Harry struggled with it. He wrestled with his feelings toward Snape. He had so much respect for the man; Harry didn't think he couldn't. Snape had done so much; was so brave. He deserved everyone's respect. And Harry felt like he understood a bit of where Snape came from, having a family who wasn't effusive; that didn't make him feel loved. He understood the isolation Snape must have felt. Harry felt isolated for nearly his whole life, in one way or another. So he got it. He empathized. He didn't sympathize; he doubted Snape would want pity. But he understood. But then there was the anger. Anger towards Snape for treating Harry the way he did – especially now. He wanted to confront Snape; demand explanation for the way Snape acted around him. But he knew he couldn't. The only thing he could do was continue to show respect as much as possible, and hope that one day Snape would return it. But Harry didn't plan on holding his breath.

"I," Harry looked up at Snape to get his attention after what seemed like quite some time, "I think I'm done, sir."

Snape stopped writing and surveyed Harry's handiwork. "Very well, Potter. You may go."

"I…should I," Harry hesitated, "should I come back down tomorrow, sir?"

Snape looked like he wanted to jump out of his chair and throw Harry bodily from the room. His nostrils flared and his knuckles whitened. "Should I require your assistance," he forced out in a silky voice, "I shall let you know."

Harry glanced down at the floor. "Right. Well, right. Goodbye, sir." When he looked back up, Snape had gone back to marking his papers and didn't acknowledge Harry again, so Harry left and made his way to the Great Hall for some lunch.

* * *

With the repairs on the castle nearly complete, Harry didn't have much to do other than study. He did do a fair bit of flying, getting permission from Madame Hooch to release a snitch to practice. He wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to play on the House team, since he wasn't technically a seventh year. He figured he would ask her later. He didn't want to spend the remainder of the summer holidays depressed because his days of Quidditch were over.

One of the last days before the start of term, Harry was sitting by the lake and he was so bored he decided to go exploring as a cat. He normally didn't transform during the day, but he figured he could go play around in the forest – not too far in, of course – without getting into trouble. He hoped Fang wouldn't be around to chase him.

He changed into his cat form and trotted off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. As he made his way down the hill, he noticed a dark figure headed towards the greenhouses. Interested in what Snape might be doing in the greenhouses, Harry sped up to catch up with him. He wasn't fast enough, though, and Snape went inside greenhouse 3 and shut the door before Harry could follow him inside. Harry wandered around the outside of the greenhouse, looking for an open window he could jump inside. He finally found one wide enough that he thought he could fit through, and he sprung up, his front paws catching the inside of the sill, but his back paws sliding down the outside of the window. He scrambled for a moment until he found his footing, and then jumped up onto the nearest table and looked around. He saw Snape bent over one of the plants, and he heard clippers snipping away. He leapt down from the table and snuck over closer to where Snape was.

He realized he was too close to Snape when the man took a step back and almost stepped on Harry. Harry moved back but bumped into the table behind him, his tail brushing up against a plant. In a flash, the plant wrapped around his tail and began to pull Harry up.

"Rowrrr!" Harry yelled, squirming to get out of the plant's grasp.

Snape turned around and chuckled. "Cat," he reached down and untangled Harry from the plant. "You shouldn't be in here. There are plants in here that will have you for lunch."

Harry let out a sniff and began licking his paws.

"So you managed to get outside the castle?" Snape smirked at Harry and leaned over to get another clipping. "You probably have a Mrs. Cat waiting for you in the forest. Most likely a whole brood." Snape put the clippings into a basket he had hanging on his arm.

"Mrowr," Harry denied.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you can't be of much help to me here," Snape lamented. "But the stores won't restock themselves."

"Rowr?" Harry mewed again.

"I know, I could have asked him to come, but who knows what he'd pick for me. Probably make twice as much work for me in the end. And then he'd be here. And I'd have to try and ignore him; act like he doesn't make me…" Snape trailed off, holding a cutting gently between his finger and thumb, staring at it. "Well, anyway, I'd imagine I'm getting things done much more quickly on my own."

Was Snape talking about Harry? It sounded like it. Of course Snape wouldn't have asked Harry to come help him restock the ingredients for the Potions classroom. He didn't think Harry was at all competent. But he was more than capable! Harry was indignant. If only Snape gave him a chance, he would show Snape that he wasn't stupid. He could collect ingredients. He could find plants and roots and insects. And then to rub it in that it was a chore to have to ignore Harry when he would rather be able to show his hatred.

Harry had had enough. He jumped up atop the table where Snape was working and came over to the plant and batted at Snape's hand and the clipper.

"No, Cat, you cannot help," Snape gave a sly smile.

Harry batted Snape's hand more insistently, trying to knock the clippers to the ground. "Rowrrr," he growled.

"Are you hungry?" Snape pursed his lips. "We can go inside as soon as I'm done here."

Harry seethed inside. He did NOT want Snape to give him more food! He wanted to punish Snape for hating him. He eyed the basket full of clippings. His tail flicked once.

Snape stopped clipping and looked at Harry, following his eye line. "Oh, no you don't, Cat," Snape warned, turning slightly to move the basket out of reach.

But Harry sprang anyway, his front claws catching on the rim of the basket. It swung widely on Snape's arm as Harry hung on, bringing his back feet up to the bottom of the basket.

"Cat!" Snape shouted, swatting at Harry to try and get him off the basket.

But Harry hung on, his back claws finally hooking into the bottom of the basket and giving him the leverage he needed to reach his front paws up and over the side and bat at the cuttings inside. In the few seconds he was able to stay attached to the basket, he managed to scatter more than half the clippings across the greenhouse floor.

"Cat," Snape set the basket down and shook his head, looking around at the ingredients on the ground.

Harry looked up at Snape, feeling accomplished, and then turned and strut towards the window where he planned to jump back out, tail straight up in the air, as smug as could be.

* * *

"Professor," Harry sat down in front of McGonagall's Headmistress' desk. "I was wondering if you'd thought at all about Quidditch this year."

"What about it, Mr. Potter?" she asked, leaning forward and folding her hands on the desk.

"Well, about me – well, anyone in my class. If we'd be allowed to play this year."

"Hm," she said shortly. "Well, that does present a problem."

"Were there even any games last year?" Harry wondered.

"No," she told him, her eyes sad. "Not after…" she trailed off.

Harry didn't need for her to finish. He knew she meant after Snape became Headmaster.

"Well, I know I'd appreciate a chance to play, and I'm sure Ron would, too. And anyone else in the other Houses. Even…even Malfoy will probably want to play," he forced himself to say.

"I'm not sure that is entirely fair, Potter," she sounded unconvinced. "After all, you all are adults, now."

"Yes, but none of us has even sat our NEWTs yet," Harry argued. "And first years can't even join the House teams, so it's not like we're keeping anyone else from playing."

"What about the first years that want to join now as second years?" she pointed out.

"Well, they could be reserve players, couldn't they?" Harry suggested.

"You raise some interesting arguments, Potter, I shall think on it and give my decision at the Welcoming Feast," she promised.

Harry's face fell slightly. He'd been hoping for a quick and favorable decision. "All…all right, then. Thank you, Professor."

The side of her mouth drew up into a half smile. "I know how badly you want this, Potter. And I'm sure you're not the only one. I'll give it true consideration."

Harry smiled back at her. "I know," he was relieved. "Thank you."

"Go," she shooed him away. "Make yourself useful for someone."

Harry grinned and stood, making his way toward the office door. Before he left, though, he turned back around. "Professor, will you be teaching Transfiguration this year?"

"No," she answered him. "My Headmistress duties do not allow time for me to teach."

"Who will be teaching it, then?" Harry asked.

"Someone qualified," she told him, ending the line of questioning.

Harry nodded, getting the hint, and he left, resigning himself to another few hours of studying.

* * *

Harry could barely sit still at breakfast. It was September first, and by dinner time, everyone would be back at the castle. He looked up at the head table and saw two new faces. The first was a middle-aged woman, short and rather plump, but pleasant-looking. Like a nicer version of Professor Umbridge. She almost reminded Harry of a chubby Mrs. Figg. The second person was a young man, Harry guessed he was in his late twenties, sat up with the rest of the professors. Harry assumed these two were the new Defence and Transfiguration teachers. He had a sneaking suspicion that the male teacher was going to cause the same reaction that Gilderoy Lockhart did. He was strikingly handsome, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He flashed a brilliant smile in response to something one of the other professors said, and nodded in agreement.

Harry felt eyes on him, and he glanced over at Snape. It was clear Snape had been watching him, but he looked away quickly, although Harry managed to catch the scowl that was on his face before the mask of indifference was back. _Stupid Snape_.

The rest of the day, Harry was at loose ends. He tried more studying, but his concentration was horrendous. He finally decided to take a quick flight around the pitch. When he got outside, though, it was raining. But it wasn't pouring, so he decided to fly for a bit anyway. He didn't let the snitch out this time; he just wanted to fly. He wanted to burn off some of his excess energy. He'd been up in the air for a while – long enough for his clothes to be nearly soaked – when he heard someone shouting his name.

"Potter!" Snape was yelling from the ground.

Harry flew down to where Snape stood, and hopped off his broom. "Yes, sir?"

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing out here?" Snape hissed.

Harry stared at him. Was that a rhetorical question?

"It's raining! Why are you out flying in this weather? Do you not think Madame Pomfrey has enough to do this time of year without having to care for you when you catch cold from flying about in this downpour?" Snape's eyes glittered angrily. "How typical of Potter to act on whatever whim he likes, not caring for a second what the consequences may be or how it might affect someone other than himself."

Harry fumed. It wasn't even raining that hard. And it wasn't cold. Harry wasn't going to get sick. Why did Snape make it sound like Harry was some selfish little kid? Harry snapped before he could stop himself.

"We've played Quidditch in worse weather than this, Snape, and never got sick before. I've been studying all summer! I just wanted to do something fun!" he shouted.

Snape's gaze turned to stone. "You will address me as either 'sir' or 'Professor,' Potter. And as for fun, find something to do that doesn't hold the possibility of bodily injury without someone there to monitor you."

"Why do you even care?" Harry demanded. "Sir," he added. "Don't think I don't know you'd like nothing better than for me to break my leg, or catch pneumonia, or anything else that would make me leave Hogwarts. I know how much you hate me. I get it, okay? I know you having to treat me fairly makes you want to spit nails. But I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what I did to you, but I'm sorry! I know you loved my mum and I know you hated my dad, but I never did anything to you! And now Voldemort's gone and I know you still hate me, but can't you just give it a rest? I respect you, sir, I really do. Don't you think you owe me even a little bit of the same?"

The only sound after Harry's rant was the spattering of the rain on the ground and on each man's clothes. Harry's chest was heaving and Snape's face looked like he had swallowed a particularly nasty lemon. Harry could see all the things Snape wanted to say to him written all over his face. He could see the physical effort it was taking Snape to not fly off the handle at him. He was impressed that Snape hadn't hexed him.

Finally, Snape spoke, so softly he could barely be heard above the rain, but with such venom that it made Harry shiver, even though it wasn't even remotely cold outside. "You know nothing, Potter. Nothing."

And with that, Snape turned around and stalked back toward the castle. Harry waited a moment more, and then followed him back inside.

* * *

The Headmistress was halfway through her Welcoming Speech when she got to the part Harry had been waiting for.

"And after much consideration and input from the rest of the staff, I have decided that students who are returning for their eighth year will be eligible to play on the House Quidditch teams," the end of her announcement was barely audible over the cheers that erupted.

She continued once the noise had died down. "…And please welcome our two new staff members, Professor Phidelios, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who has graciously taken time off from the Auror program to join our faculty, and Professor Belfacia, our new Transfiguration teacher, who comes to us from the Wizarding University in London."

Professor Phidelios turned out to be the gentle woman Harry had seen earlier that morning, and Professor Belfacia was the man.

"Well, they seem alright, don't they?" Ron whispered over the table at Harry as he clapped along with everyone else at the introductions.

"Well, Professor Belfacia certainly looks like he's capable enough," Hermione said dreamily, confirming Harry's suspicion that he would garner the same reaction as Lockhart.

"What's that supposed to mean, Hermione?" Ron turned to look at her with a scowl on his face.

"Nothing," she blushed, looking away from the head table. "Shh, let's listen to the rest of Professor McGonagall's speech."

Harry watched and tried to listen as Professor McGonagall went on about the rules for the year, pointing out things to the first years that everyone else ought to know already. Ginny sat next to him and leaned against his arm at one point. A sharp movement caught the corner of Harry's eye, and he glanced over to Snape, who had stabbed at his food viciously. He was staring at Harry with a particularly nasty look, but Harry felt confident enough after his outburst earlier in the day, glared right back at Snape until the older man looked away.

* * *

"Today we will be practicing identifying wandless spells," Professor Phidelios chirped in a sing-song voice.

Dean Thomas's hand went up.

"Yes, Mr. Thomas?" she addressed him.

"How are we supposed to do that?" he asked.

She smiled. "That is an excellent question. You all should have your copies of Practical Defence: A Thorough Modern Approach. If you open to chapter six, you will notice the chart categorizing families of spells by color. For your first assignment, I would like you to partner up and list every spell you know from each family. Your list will be turned in at the end of class for a grade. Feel free to use other resources to add to your list of spells."

Harry paired up with Ron and saw that Hermione had taken pity on Neville. Harry got out a piece of parchment and drew a chart on it with the color headings red, green, yellow, purple, blue. The chart listed families of spells under each color, such as the Unforgivables corresponding to green. Harry and Ron started listing the spells they knew for each family right away, pleasantly surprised that they were able to fill their columns fairly quickly. They tried not to become too disheartened when they looked over at Hermione and Neville and saw that they were already on their second sheet of parchment.

"Time!" Professor Phidelios called at the end of the lesson, waving her wand and gathering the parchments as they flew towards her. "Next lesson will focus solely on recognizing defensive spells," she explained. "Have a lovely day!"

"Don't we have homework?" Hermione asked.

"Shut it, Granger!" someone shouted from the back of the room – Harry thought it sounded like Malfoy.

"Not today," Professor Phidelios smiled.

There were whoops as the students left the classroom and headed to Potions.

"You ready for Snape, mate?" Ron asked Harry in a low voice as they rounded the corner and approached the open classroom door.

"As I'll ever be," Harry sighed deliberately, and they made their way inside, taking a table toward the back of the room. Hermione was already partnered with Parvati Patil, and was already making notes in her journal.

Harry looked over and saw Malfoy partnered with a Slytherin Harry didn't really know. He looked familiar, but he'd never seen Malfoy hang around anyone other than Crabbe and Goyle, and seeing as Goyle was dead and there was no way Crabbe had the smarts to make it into NEWTs Potions, Malfoy was now forced to work with some of the other members of his House. Harry took a good look at Malfoy, who was studying his desk. He noticed Malfoy looked a bit pale, not pale like he did in 6th year, but pale as in sickly. Like he was under stress. He hadn't made a peep during their Defence class, and he didn't seem to be planning anything for Potions, either. Harry and Ron had both talked about Draco coming back for the year, and they were both in agreement that he shouldn't have been allowed back in the school. Hermione had taken the other side (of course) and argued that Draco's actions in 6th year were heavily influenced by his family and were not necessarily what he would have done if left on his own, and then she reminded both of them that he had tried to save their lives by not revealing Harry at the manor. And she also pointed out that he probably wouldn't be trying to do anything to the three of them since Harry had saved his life in the Room of Requirement. Both Harry and Ron conceded that as long as Draco left them alone, they would do their best to tolerate his presence without antagonizing him.

"I am aware," Snape's voice cut across the chatter like a knife as he walked into the room, "that over the past two years you have been students in a class where the expectations were exceptionally low."

Snape glared around the room as if daring anyone to contradict him.

"Your previous instructor," his mouth twisted around the word as if it were a joke, "did not set the same standards I demand of my students. In fact," he swept up to his desk at the front of the room and folded his arms across his chest, making him look slightly vampirific, "most of you should consider yourselves lucky to be here today."

Snape's eyes came to rest on Harry for the briefest of seconds.

"Professor Slughorn allowed students into his NEWT Potions classes requiring only an 'Exceeds Expectations' on the OWL exam. I, however," Snape sneered, "demand all my students score only 'Outstandings'."

Harry wasn't sure how many people in the class had only achieved an "E" on the OWL, but he was willing to bet it was close to half of the class.

"Unfortunately," Snape's voice dripped with disdain, "I am obligated to teach any student who was in Professor Slughorn's classes over the past two years. Rest assured that those of you who did not manage an 'O' on your OWL will find my course of study too demanding. Anyone who does not score 'Exceeds Expectations' on the semester exam will be dropped from the course. Should you feel you may be one of these students," Snape glared at Harry and Ron, "please feel free to drop the course now."

Harry stared back at Snape defiantly. Snape's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

"Your first assignment is on the board. It is something you should have learnt early last year. Be prepared to turn your finished product in for a grade at the end of class," he paused briefly. "Begin."

Harry looked up at the board and saw the instructions for the potion. It also referenced page 84 in the 7th year Potions text, so he flipped there and read through the directions first. This was a potion he'd read during the summer while he was studying, and he was thankful, because unlike most of the other students, he had not, in fact, learned this potion last year. He and Ron got started preparing all the ingredients and were soon in the throes of brewing the potion when he felt a presence behind him.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a low voice over Harry's shoulder, "who knew a year of camping and a summer of studying could reverse half a lifetime of ineptitude."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance as Snape moved on, and Harry felt strange, having received what he was pretty sure was a compliment from Snape. But at the end of class, when Harry decanted his potion and handed it to Snape, he saw the same, stony expression on Snape's face. He didn't wait for feedback before he left the room with Ron and Hermione.

* * *

"Well, I won't be staying the whole time in Hogsmeade," Hermione explained as she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny sat in front of the fire in the common room. Hermione sat in between Harry and Ron on the couch and Ginny sat on the floor, leaned up against Harry's leg.

"Why's that?" Ron asked her.

"Well, there's so much work to do. It's nearly Halloween and exams are only a few weeks out, now," she sounded stressed.

"Hermione," Ron whined, "you're going to do fine! You'll get all 'Outstandings' like you always do, and we'll all be left in your dust."

"You all need to get at least 'Exceeds Expectations,' in Potions if you want Professor Snape to keep you in his class!" Hermione reminded them.

"That's true," Ginny grimaced.

"We can at least go have lunch at the Three Broomsticks," Harry proposed. "After we go to Honeydukes in the morning."

"Yes," Hermione snorted, "because what you and Ron need is more sugar."

Harry felt Ginny chuckle against his leg.

"All right," Hermione conceded, "we'll go in the morning and then have lunch, but only if you two have finished your essay for Professor Belfacia and prove to me that you can successfully complete the vertebrae transformation sequence."

"Mine's done," Harry told her, "and I've got the sequence down."

Hermione looked pointedly at Ron.

"I..I'm just going to finish mine now," Ron said meekly, and then he rose and went up the stairs to the dormitory, presumably to work on his essay.

Hermione looked back at Harry once Ron had left, and glanced down at Ginny, who was looking at the fire.

"I'll just head up to do some studying, then," she said. "Night all."

Ginny looked up and smiled at Hermione.

"Night, Hermione," Harry said as she got up and walked to the dormitory stairs.

Harry looked around and realized he and Ginny were alone in the common room. He figured the lower years' students were probably up in their beds already, since they had an earlier curfew, and the older students were probably all studying. Ginny must have noticed they were alone as well, because she got up and sat down next to Harry crosslegged on the couch.

"What do you think of the new professors?" she asked Harry as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Harry noticed she did that when she was a little nervous.

"They're all right," he shrugged. "Seem to know what they're doing, at least."

"Phidelios is better than Umbridge anyway," Ginny smiled. "Or Snape."

Harry let out a chuckle.

"And definitely better than the Carrows," she added darkly.

"Belfacia seems all right," Harry said.

"Reminds me of Lockhart," Ginny told him.

"Yeah, I thought so, too," Harry agreed. "Only not a complete waste of space."

Ginny smiled warmly at him. They sat in silence as the fire crackled and cast shadows across their faces. She leaned in towards him and Harry felt his heart rate pick up as she pressed her lips to his. She brought her hand up to the back of his head and pulled him closer to her. Harry was thrown off balance and he reached out to grab something to steady himself. One arm caught the back of the couch but the other went around Ginny's back. She let out a soft noise of approval and leaned back, pulling him on top of her as she lay down on the couch. She ran her lips along Harry's and he opened his mouth and her tongue slipped inside. She was kissing him earnestly now, one hand behind his head and the other on his back, holding him close to her. He felt her, soft, underneath him, trying to get even closer. One of her legs wrapped around his and he felt her foot rub up the back of his calf. He felt her breasts pushing against his chest and he brought a hand up to cup one and when he did Ginny pulled back from their kiss and gasped, throwing her head back against the couch. He pinched her nipple through her shirt and bra and she brought her face back to Harry and attacked his mouth again.

"Oh, God, Harry," she whispered into his mouth. "Yes!"

Suddenly, he heard the portrait swing open and he bolted up from her, smoothing down his shirt and trousers. She was slower to sit up, but brushed her hair back with her hands and pulled her shirt down where it had ridden up. The fifth year that came through gave them a quick, knowing look, and headed up the stairs.

"We should probably get to bed," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, his left shoved in his pocket.

Ginny had an unidentifiable look on her face. "Yeah, we should." She stood up and faced Harry. "Good night, Harry." She reached out her hand and squeezed the arm of his hand that was in his pocket.

"Night, Ginny," he responded. She turned and went up the stairs, leaving Harry alone by the fire. Harry replayed the last several minutes in his head. Ginny had been so into their make-out session. He could tell she had wanted to go even further. He didn't have much doubt that if he could find a place for them to be alone, she might even have sex with him. What really bothered him, though, was the fact that he didn't feel anything at all. When he was kissing her, he hadn't been thinking about how much he cared about her, or loved her, or even how much he liked her. The whole time, all he could think about was that he was kissing her, but it felt…it felt dead. Harry thought that word might be a bit harsh, but it was the truth. He wasn't even a little hard after what they'd done. A year ago, when they'd done the same thing (and even a bit more), it had made him hard enough that he'd either take a cold shower or wank in his bed. But this time – this time there was nothing. Was there something wrong with him? Ginny was a pretty girl; he was attracted to her. Wasn't he? He stared into the fire. Maybe Hermione was right; maybe he just had to give it more time. He knew what was supposed to happen: he was supposed to marry Ginny and have a litter of kids, become an Auror and live happily ever after. But why did it feel like that life belonged to someone else, now? He wanted to feel the passion he'd first had with Ginny in his 6th year. He wanted that excitement of being an Auror back. But he didn't know how to rekindle those feelings. Maybe he just had to give it time. But why did it feel like all the time in the world wouldn't be enough? What was the matter with him?


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I have been getting some feedback about the HP/GW pairing vs this being listed as a HP/SS fic. I am SO excited to post this chapter, and I think it will clear up a lot of that confusion. Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry needed to clear his head, and the best way to do that now was to wander about the castle as a cat. He needed to distract himself from his self-doubt and thoughts of Ginny, so he left the common room and transformed into the cat and trotted down the corridor. He hadn't been out long when he saw Draco Malfoy walking briskly with a piece of parchment in his hand. Harry was curious as to what the ferret was up to, so he stalked after him silently, staying in the shadows. It didn't take long before Harry realized Draco was headed to the dungeons, specifically, Snape's office. Draco came to a stop at the door and knocked twice.

A moment later, the door opened and Snape stood behind it. "Come in, Draco," he said gently – well, gently for Snape, anyway.

Harry was feeling a bit reckless so he didn't even try to hide as he followed in after Draco.

"What the…" Draco nearly tripped as Harry ran between his legs.

Snape sighed. "Cat, what are you doing about down here?"

"He's your cat?" Draco looked surprised.

"No," Snape denied. "But he does come by fairly often. Does he belong to anyone in our House?"

"Not that I know of," Draco shook his head.

"No matter," Snape waved it off. "Follow me."

He led Draco to the wall where to door to his private rooms was. The three of them went inside and Snape motioned for Draco to sit on the couch. Snape sat down across from him on the other side and said loudly, "Tea, please." Almost instantly, a full tea setting appeared next to the couch. He poured a cup and handed it over to Draco. "Drink," he commanded. "I see you got my request," he said as he blew over his own tea. Harry hopped up onto the couch in between them and Snape patted his lap in invitation, where Harry curled up and sat, staring at Draco.

Draco nodded. "You wished to see me."

"I did," Snape affirmed with a nod of his head. "I've spoken with your other professors; you're doing admirably in all your classes."

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "I'm not some kid you have to check up on!"

Snape remained calm. "No, but as someone who will likely serve as a reference for whatever internship you choose, I think it is necessary for me to have insight into your overall performance."

Draco's face relaxed. "You'd do that for me, sir?"

"Of course," Snape sounded almost insulted.

"Even after," Draco looked down into his tea, "after everything I did? After everything that happened?"

"We all make mistakes, Draco," Snape sounded sympathetic.

"Yes, but, but no one is ever going to trust me again," Draco despaired. "I'll never find a good job."

"You will," Snape assured him, taking a sip of tea. "I shall make sure of it."

"Why would you," Draco looked skeptical, "you know, do this for me? I was horrible to you. My whole family was."

"Yes, but I still testified on your behalves," Snape reminded him.

"Why?" Draco pressed him. "You could have left us all to rot in Azkaban."

"Because you all – you especially – made mistakes. People deserve to be forgiven for their mistakes," Snape took a long sip of tea.

Draco looked down into his teacup. "I think you might be the only one who thinks that."

"Somehow I doubt that," Snape reassured him. "As long as you make it through this year and earn your NEWTs, I am confident I can find you a respectable apprenticeship," Snape paused. "I think you're making admirable progress thus far."

Draco was still staring at his cup. "Thank you, sir."

"Not just your marks," Snape shifted, but did not dislodge Harry from his lap, "but I am impressed with the way you have been interacting with the other students."

"You mean Potter, Weasley, and the mudblood?" Draco looked up at Snape through his lashes.

"Do not use that term, Draco," Snape commanded shortly. "But yes, I do mean the Golden Trio," Snape's voice held sarcasm.

"Well, they've left me alone, too. I think our feelings towards each other are entirely mutual," Draco finished in a low voice.

"I know what you did for them at the Manor, Draco, and I know that Potter saved your life during the battle," Snape told him.

"I hate being in debt to that prat," Draco said petulantly.

"You would be wise to keep your feelings of animosity to yourself," Snape warned.

"Is that why you're going easy on him this year, sir?" Draco asked.

Harry felt Snape stiffen at Draco's inquiry. "I have deemed it prudent to act more…civilly…toward all my students this year," he explained.

"You could still find something to give him detention for," pouted Draco. "No one else will."

Harry could tell Snape hadn't relaxed. "So far, he has not done anything warranting a detention. Rest assured that should he, I will not hesitate to assign it."

Draco seemed placated.

"How are you holding up, Draco," Snape set his tea to the side.

"Fine," Draco answered a bit too quickly.

Snape was silent.

"I'm doing the best that I can," Draco's shoulders slumped. "I worry about mother. I wish I could be doing more to help."

"The best thing you can do right now is be here, and take advantage of the opportunity you have been given," Snape assured him. "I know you have a lot on your shoulders, but try to understand that your parents made their own choices, and they must deal with the consequences. They are older, so their consequences were more severe than yours, but not giving them reasons to worry about you is the best gift you can give them."

Draco nodded.

"Continue to keep your head down and come to me for help," Snape instructed him. "It is not weakness to ask for help, Draco," Snape added gently.

Harry thought he saw Draco's eyes water.

"You may go back to your dormitory now," Snape stood, forcing Harry off his lap.

"Thank you, sir," Draco rose off the couch and headed toward the office door.

"Contrary to rumor, I am not a completely heartless bastard," Snape smirked.

"I'll keep your secret, sir," Draco promised with a smile.

Snape saw Draco out into the hallway and then turned back around to face Harry. "Well, Cat, would you like something to eat? I have a few minutes before I have to patrol the corridors."

"Mrowr," Harry gave in and trotted after Snape to the kitchen.

"You're probably wondering why I offered Draco help but refused to give any to his father," Snape spoke to Harry as he put the dish of tuna down. He stood back up and crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. "You don't know them, and if you did, you might not even believe me, but Draco still has a conscience. He regrets what he did because he sees now that it was wrong. Don't mistake me," Snape looked steadily at Harry, "he's still an obnoxious, spoiled brat with a superiority complex, but he recognizes now that what the Dark Lord stood for – the path he was on – was fundamentally wrong."

Harry looked up at Snape while chewing on a particularly large bite of fish. He didn't think Snape was right about Draco, but obviously Harry didn't know Draco as well as Snape did, so he conceded that at least Snape was convinced of his theory.

"Lucius, however," Snape continued, unaware of Harry's musings, "is a different story. The only reason he regrets his decisions and his actions is because he was caught. If he was presented with another chance, I believe he would make the same choices."

Harry didn't have any trouble agreeing with that. He swallowed the last bite of the tuna and licked his lips, staring up at Snape.

"Oh, Cat," Snape sighed as he bent down to pick up the empty plate, "if you only knew how simple your life is. Maybe I'll be lucky, though." Snape turned to put the plate in the sink. "Maybe Potter will only manage an 'A' on the exam, and then I can drop him from the class."

Harry let out a low growl.

"Defending him, are you?" Snape quirked a brow. "Yes, well, you'll have to stand in line. I'll just be so relieved when this year is over. Extra classes means extra marking time which means no time for me. Not that that is much different from any other time." Snape walked out of the kitchen and headed for the office door. "It's just that no one knows how difficult it has been this year, having them all back. To think you're rid of them and then to have them traipsing about. And Potter – don't get me started on him. He will be the death of me, I'm sure of it. Torture," he bent down to pet Harry's head. "Pure torture, it's been, having to see him every single day."

Harry didn't even react this time. He was so over Snape's hatred of him.

"Well, nothing to be done for it," Snape stood back up and sighed. "Time to catch miscreants."

He opened the door to the hallway and Harry streaked out in front of him. He heard Snape chuckle but he didn't turn around.

* * *

"We should talk, Harry," Ginny said to him in a low voice while they were at lunch on Saturday.

Harry turned to look at her, then nodded. "Yeah, probably."

"Take a walk with me?" she stood and held out her hand.

Hermione looked up from her book and gave Harry a scrutinizing look. Ron didn't seem to notice anything as he devoured his food. Harry stood and took Ginny's hand and let himself be led out of the Great Hall. She walked him outside, through the courtyard, and towards the lake. It was a chilly, early November day, but the sky was clear and blue. Once they had gone about a quarter of the way around the lake, Ginny let go of his hand and turned to face him. She cast a slight warming charm around them.

"It's not working, is it?" she asked him, chewing on her bottom lip.

Harry's brow contracted. "What?"

"Us," she clarified. "We're not working, are we?"

Harry looked down at the ground. "Well, I – you – we…" he stammered.

"It's all right, Harry," the smile in her voice caused him to look back up at her.

"It is?" his surprise showed plainly on his face.

"Yes," she took his hands in hers. "I know you went through a lot. You've been through a lot. Things are different now."

"Have you been talking to Hermione?" he tried to smile.

"Maybe a bit," Ginny gave a soft chuckle. "But I didn't really need to. It's clear you're a different person. I'm not sure how anyone couldn't be, after dying and…everything."

"But I care about you," Harry argued. "Maybe if we just give it time…" he trailed off.

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "I think – I don't think I'm what you need, anymore."

Harry stared down at their hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Harry," she assured him. "It's been over a year. People change. Things change."

"So I'm not what you need, either?" he looked back up at her.

She gave him a sincere smile. "I think you could be, if you wanted to. But I don't want you to be with me because you feel like you have to make me happy. I want you to be with someone that makes _you_ happy. If you stay – if we stay together, you'll eventually find someone else who can give you what you need and it'll be that much harder for both of us."

"But I don't even know what I want," Harry was frustrated.

"Not now," Ginny agreed, "but you will. I mean, it's only been six months since Voldemort died. Since you died. Now there's all this stress with NEWTs, and figuring out our careers. I think everyone just needs a little space. Some perspective. I think we all need a little time to figure out what we want."

"But I love you," Harry protested. And it was true.

"I know," she nodded. "And eventually, maybe you'll fall back _in_ love with me. Maybe someday I can be what you need. But we aren't right for each other right now."

She squeezed his hands and let them drop.

Harry gave her a sad smile. "When did you get to be so wise?" he reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

She offered him a tender look. "I've learned from other people's mistakes. Having six brothers and lots of friends – and having some of my own relationships – is a lot of material to work with."

"So we're breaking up?" Harry stated it bluntly.

"We're breaking up," she confirmed. "But you'd better still be my friend," she demanded.

Harry grinned at her. "How could I not be?"

She stepped in and gave him a hug. As she let go and moved back, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "I know everything will work itself out," she assured him. "I really believe it."

"I hope you're right," he sighed. "It sure doesn't feel like it will."

"I know," she sympathized. "Come on," she took his arm and started dragging him back to the castle, "let's go study for some NEWTs."

* * *

Harry had been astonished at Ron's reaction to his break up with Ginny. He'd expected a furious rage and threats to Harry's life. But Ron had just shrugged.

"_She_ broke up with _you_, right?" he'd asked. "What're gonna do?"

Harry had the feeling that Hermione approved of the break up. He figured she had played an instrumental role in it, anyway. Regardless, he didn't have much time to dwell on it, since exams were in just a few weeks and he had to make sure he did well – especially in Potions. He couldn't afford to be kicked out of the class.

So it was that later that night he found himself studying in the common room, his eyes blurry from focusing on small print and his hand cramping from writing foot after foot of parchment. The common room had pretty much emptied out, with only a few upper-year students tucked away in corners of the room, studying. Harry decided he needed a break. Not just from studying, but from everything, if only for a little while. Walking around as a cat helped him forget about life, so he figured a short stroll in his cat form was just the thing he needed.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced to Ron and Hermione, who were studying next to him.

"Me too," Ron agreed, stretching.

"Erm," Harry winced, "I sort of just want to be alone right now."

A look of understanding dawned on Ron's face. "Oh, right. 'S fine, mate. See you later."

"Be sure you're back before curfew, Harry," Hermione warned, her nose still in her Arithmancy textbook.

"Sure," Harry placated her. He left his friends and walked through the portrait hole. Once it closed, he glanced around to make sure he was alone, and then transformed into his cat.

He took a deep breath and felt himself relax. Yes, this was definitely what he needed. He began his tour of the castle. He saw various students and even some professors, but he stayed in the shadows and no one seemed to notice him. Except for one person.

"Cat," Snape's voice rumbled. "Out for a nighttime stroll?" Snape had just rounded the corner and come face to face with Harry.

_Of course_, Harry groaned internally. The one person he definitely didn't want to see right now – who would ruin his relaxing jaunt – had to be the one who found him.

"Why don't you come with me?" Snape suggested. "I've a special treat for you."

Harry's ears perked up. Snape had gotten something special for him? Well, not him, but the cat. In spite of himself, he followed Snape down to the office and into the private rooms.

"I thought you might be tired of tuna," Snape said once they were in the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and bent down to retrieve something off of one of the lower shelves. "So I procured you some salmon."

Harry could tell right away from the smell that salmon was going to taste better than tuna. He licked his lips subconsciously. Snape arranged the cut of fish artfully on the small plate and then walked into the sitting room. He put the plate on the couch and Harry jumped up immediately and began eating. Snape took off his outer robe and tossed it on the back of one of the armchairs across from the sofa, then sat down and lit the fire. Harry heard soft classical music playing soon after.

The salmon was amazing. Harry had never eaten it as a human, but he definitely wanted to try it, now that he'd had some as a cat. He thought he'd want more, but by the time he finished what was on his plate, he was stuffed. He let out a soft mewl of thanks and then curled up on the far end of the sofa. He saw Snape summon a periodical and start to read. Calmed by the sounds of the fire and turning pages, Harry drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Harry awoke, the fire was out. He was still warm, but it felt magical, like someone had cast a warming charm on him. It was also fairly dark. His stomach fell – how long had he been asleep? He hadn't had that much time before curfew – had he missed it? He hopped off the couch and made his way around the flat, looking for Snape. If his heart was beating fast because Snape was nowhere to be found, it was nothing compared to how fast it beat when he saw the time on the clock mounted over the mantle. One o'clock in the morning. What was he going to do?

He heard soft noises coming from a room with a door that was just barely cracked open. He went over to investigate and once inside, he realized that it was Snape's bedroom, and that said professor was asleep.

Harry immediately went into panic mode. What was he going to do? How was he going to get out of there? He was sure that Snape set wards on his rooms, so if Harry was to transform and try to leave he would trip them and wake Snape. What if his roommates noticed he was gone? He was sure they had to have noticed he never came up to the room for bed. Would Ron go to Professor McGonagall? Probably not. Harry went out wandering after curfew all the time; Ron wouldn't think it was suspicious. But what about when they woke up in the morning and Harry wasn't there? Well, it was Saturday night, the next morning everyone would sleep in. Would Snape? Maybe he would wake up early enough that Harry could make it back to the dormitory before anyone noticed he'd been gone the entire night.

Harry took a deep breath. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He'd just have to stay in Snape's rooms until the man woke up to let him out. He was about to go back out to the sitting room and curl up again on the sofa when he heard Snape mutter something. Snape talked in his sleep? Harry wished cats could grin. This was excellent! Harry walked around to the side of the bed that wasn't occupied by Snape and jumped up as stealthily as he could. Snape shifted, but didn't wake. He was on his side, and Harry could see his bare back. The covers only went up to his waist. Harry had a strange thought. Was Snape naked?

He heard Snape mumble something again, but he couldn't make out what Snape was saying since he was turned away from Harry. Harry climbed onto the empty pillow and began kneading it with his paws. Suddenly, Snape turned over onto his back. Harry froze, afraid he'd woken Snape up, but relaxed when he saw the man's eyes were still closed. Snape threw the comforter off of himself so that the only thing covering him was the bed sheet. The sheets were plain white. Why that surprised Harry, he wasn't sure. He had pictured Snape with black, or maybe even dark green sheets. But they were basic white cotton. Soft, but generic. Harry wondered if they were Hogwarts issued to all the professors. Snape let out a low sound and Harry was snapped out of his reverie. His eyes traveled down Snape's body, and he felt very odd, looking at his professor's naked chest. It was finely muscled with a soft dusting of hair. Again, not what Harry would have expected, if he'd ever thought about what Snape's chest might look like. Harry's eyes traveled even further down and he felt a heat that would have made his cheeks blaze bright red if he'd been himself as he noticed Snape's obvious erection tenting the sheet.

Snape let out a guttural moan and Harry watched as Snape's hand made its way under the covers. The sheets began to move and it was obvious that Snape was stroking himself.

_I'm watching Snape wank_, Harry thought perversely. _In his sleep!_

Snape's breathing became more rapid and shallow and his moans gained strength.

"Uhn…" Snape groaned, "H…oh, Har…mmm." Snape's hand sped up. "Har…Harry…mmmm, oh, Harry…"

Harry heard his name whispered on Snape's lips. He couldn't have breathed even if Merlin himself commanded it.

"Ohhh, Harry, Har…Harry, yes! Oh, Harry…" Snape was saying Harry's name over and over in between short pants.

Suddenly, Snape's back arched and he dug his head back into his pillow. Harry watched as a wet spot grew on the sheet where Snape's penis was underneath and he heard Snape cry out Harry's name loudly before letting out a final sigh and relaxing.

And Harry's world flipped upside down.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I'm impressed I got this done today...but it was a slow day at the office. Don't read it too fast...it's all you'll get until next week! Have a lovely weekend!_

* * *

Snape's eyes opened slowly. He glanced over at Harry. "Cat," his voice cracked with sleep, "quite the voyeur, aren't you? Or remarkably blasé." He threw the sheet off himself and got up. His penis was softening, but it was still elongated and slightly swollen. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of it. It wasn't the first he'd seen one besides his own; he'd used the showers after Quidditch before – but this was _Snape's_.

Snape walked over to the bathroom and went inside, not quite closing the door behind him. Harry could hear him moving around, and then the water running in the sink. Snape came back into the bedroom.

"I suppose you're ready to leave?" he eyed Harry presumptuously, standing there, stark naked.

Harry was still in too much shock to move.

"Well, if you'd rather stay," Snape started, moving to crawl back into bed.

That spurred Harry into action. He most definitely did NOT want to stay. He quickly jumped down off of the bed and left the bedroom ahead of Snape, going to the office door. He looked behind him, but Snape hadn't followed him. He was about to go back in and see why, when Snape emerged wearing a black robe. He came over to the office door and opened it, letting Harry through. Harry went directly to the door leading to the hallway. Snape put his hand on the handle, but didn't open it. He looked down at Harry, a sad smile on his face.

"It's a thin line between love and hate, Cat," Snape said, as if justifying something to Harry. Harry pawed at the door, eager to be gone. "Yes, of course," Snape nodded and turned the handle. "Off you go."

And with that, Harry streaked out into the corridor, running blindly, body numb with shock and confusion.

Harry didn't stop running until he was on the Astronomy Tower. He transformed back into himself and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath from running through the castle. He had a thousand thoughts running through his head. He felt so stunned that he couldn't sort through them all. He finally was able to stand up and he walked over to the parapet and stared out at the grounds.

Snape was gay. That was the first shocking thought that bubbled to the surface. Gay. Harry didn't have much experience with gay men, but he didn't think Snape seemed like a typical homosexual. But Snape was clearly gay.

Snape had been dreaming about Harry. This thought was even more shocking than the first. Harry was sure teachers had dreams about their students, but he would have thought that if Snape were dreaming about him, it would be something to do with extended detentions and cauldron scrubbing. Not with…whatever it had been.

Whatever it had been…Harry replayed the events in his head. There was no mistaking what had happened. He couldn't have misheard his name. Said that many times. Said that loudly. Harry had gotten Snape off. _Thoughts!_ Harry shouted at himself. Thoughts of Harry had gotten Snape off.

But Snape _hated_ Harry. There was no misunderstanding that, either. The way Snape treated him; had always treated him. The things Snape said to Harry to make sure he knew how much Snape loathed him. The things he said about Harry when Harry wasn't around. He'd said seeing Harry was torture. He said he'd be relieved when the year was over and Harry was gone. He said he'd have rather died than have to see Harry this whole year. Why would he say those things and act that way if he _didn't_ hate Harry?

Oh. _Oh…_

But that…that was impossible! Harry shook his head in denial. There was no way Snape liked Harry. There was no way Snape _liked_ Harry. But if he did…if he did and he didn't want anyone to – couldn't let anyone know…Harry didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to, but the evidence was right there in front of him. He'd seen it with his own eyes; heard it with his own ears. As much as he might have liked to think it was a dream, it had been real.

And _damn_ if it didn't make more and more sense the longer Harry thought about it. Snape _liked_ Harry. Harry noticed a conspicuous lack of revulsion where that was concerned. Maybe he was still in shock. Maybe it was because he'd just learned the most human thing about Snape, and it didn't seem so bad to know Snape could have feelings like that for someone, and it didn't matter who it was. Harry didn't know why he wasn't repulsed, but he didn't dwell on it because…

_Oh God, what am I going to do?_

He was going to have to see Snape. Every day. It had been bad enough knowing there were two Snapes and keeping that to himself. This…this was going to be interminable. What was he going to do? He was a horrible actor. He knew right away that it wouldn't take long before Hermione sensed something was up. He had to do whatever it took to completely ignore Snape. He wouldn't speak to him except under the most dire of circumstances. He wouldn't even look at him unless it was absolutely necessary. But Snape would look at him. And every time Harry saw Snape look at him, he'd know what Snape was thinking about him. What he was imagining. Harry felt the blush rise in his cheeks. Damn. This was going to be difficult.

Harry hadn't even really begun to get through his pile of feelings, but he knew he needed to get back to the dormitory, so he transformed back into the cat and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Sleep had been a long time coming, and even though he had barely awoken in time for lunch, Harry still didn't feel well-rested.

"Rough night, mate?" Ron asked between bites of his large turkey sandwich.

"You do look dreadful, Harry," Hermione agreed.

"What time did you even get in?" Dean asked him before taking a sip of juice.

"Not sure," he admitted.

Hermione gave him a reprimanding look. "You're not doing yourself any favors by disrupting your sleep, Harry. Things are stressful enough as it is. You should be on a consistent sleep schedule if you want to give yourself the best chance possible on exams."

"Where do you even go, Harry?" Seamus asked.

"Oh, erm," Harry stuttered. "Just around. Nowhere particular."

"I wish I had an invisibility cloak," Seamus was wistful. "You're so lucky, Harry."

Hermione glared at Seamus. "You think he's lucky?" she hissed. "Lucky that his parents were killed so the only thing he ever got from his own father is that cloak? Lucky that he lived his whole life being hunted by a madman? I'm sure he'd gladly give up his cloak to undo any of that."

"Hermione," Harry mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry!" Seamus held up his hands in defence. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Harry told him quickly, before Hermione could go off anymore. "It's all right."

"So, what are we doing today?" Ron asked, his mouth full.

Hermione gave him a look of disbelief. "You can't be serious," she said flatly.

"What?" Ron was nonplussed.

"Exams are in less than five weeks, Ronald Weasley! We have assignments for every class due this week and studying to do! What do you propose we do?" she finished sarcastically and crossed her arms.

Ron looked taken aback. "Well," he said sheepishly, "I was thinking we might do a bit of Quidditch practice," he admitted. "We do play Hufflepuff Thursday."

"Well?" Hermione turned her expectant glare to Harry. "You're the captain. Do you have a practice scheduled for today?"

"Erm, no," Harry said dejectedly.

"And do you think your team really needs more practice today, in addition to the one you have planned for Tuesday, in order to beat Hufflepuff?" she demanded.

Harry looked guiltily at Ron. "Not really," he answered truthfully.

Ron scowled.

"Well then," Hermione uncrossed her arms and reached around to dig into her book bag. "That's settled. Let's see if I can organize our time this afternoon."

"Traitor," Ginny whispered loudly across the table, a smile on her face.

Harry smiled back at her. He felt eyes on him, and looked up at the staff table. Snape was glaring at him. Why was Snape glaring at him? What had he done? He hadn't even been looking at Snape, so there was no reason for Snape to act like he hated Harry. All Harry had done was smile at Ginny.

Was Snape _jealous_? Snape _was_ jealous! The thought was so absurd that Harry almost laughed out loud, but then he remembered his promise to himself to ignore Snape as much as possible and so he forced himself to turn back around and try to pick up the monologue Hermione was giving about how long they were going to spend on each subject throughout the afternoon.

"…for potions?" she finished saying.

"Hm?" Harry said distractedly.

"I said," Hermione rolled her eyes, "do you think Professor Snape would let us use one of the empty classrooms down in the dungeons to practice brewing some potions this afternoon."

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure. "Probably not if I asked him," he smiled slyly.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, no doubt about that!" he agreed.

"_I'll_ ask him," she rolled her eyes again. She did that so often Harry sometimes wondered if they would get stuck up there some day.

"Ask me what, Ms. Granger?" Snape's dark voice startled Harry so much that he jumped nearly an inch out of his seat. Snape had come up right behind him. He was close enough that Harry imagined he could feel the heat coming off his body. Harry's cheeks started to blush. Fortunately, everyone was either looking at Snape or down at their laps, so he didn't think anyone noticed.

"Professor, we're going to spend the afternoon working on our assignments and studying for our NEWTs. We'd like to get some practice brewing some of the potions more commonly tested on NEWTs. Do you think we could use one of the empty classrooms to brew?" she asked with confidence, not showing any intimidation.

Snape rose a single brow as he stared down his nose at Hermione. "Let you practice brewing NEWT-level potions unsupervised? I'm astonished you managed to come up with such a colossally bad idea."

Hermione's face fell.

"I believe I would rather be put on a deserted island with Potter than give any of you free reign of ingredients and a classroom," he sneered.

Harry tried to stifle laughter that threatened to bubble up out of him. He managed to pass it off as choking and a cough.

"Honestly, Potter," Snape snapped at him, "can you not even sit still without making a ridiculous amount of bothersome noise?"

"So-sorry, sir," Harry sputtered.

"Please, sir," Hermione pleaded, "we need to practice. I promise we'll take care of everything. I promise we won't damage anything."

Snape looked at her critically for a moment. "Very well," he conceded.

Hermione's glee was tangible.

"You may use the classroom next to mine, if," he emphasized the word heavily, "you allow me to choose what you brew."

Hermione's look of disappointment came back. "Will we be able to practice anything on NEWT level, then?"

"Yes, of course," he said in a tone that left no doubt that he wanted to tack on, 'you stupid girl.'

"Thank you, sir!" Hermione smiled at him, but wiped it off her face at his stern glare. "Erm, what time will we be able to use the room?"

"I shall be there at three o'clock with the supplies and ingredients necessary for the potion I select. Do not," Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Snape was glaring at him, "be late." And with that, Snape turned on his heel and stalked out of the Great Hall.

"What do you think he'll let us brew?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Hermione sounded concerned. "All the NEWT-level potions we've brewed have explosive ingredients or have the potential to become disastrous if a step is missed or something is added at the wrong time."

"Well, that's every potion, isn't it?" Seamus joked.

"You'd know," Dean elbowed him.

"Come on," Hermione commanded, standing up. "Let's go let the others know what we're doing for the rest of the day."

"But I'm not done!" Ron complained.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione grabbed hold of his sleeve and dragged him to his feet, "the fact that you're not the size of a house constantly astounds me."

Harry laughed at Ron, stumbling along behind Hermione.

"Shut it, Harry!" Ron mumbled.

"Come on, let's go," Ginny said to Harry, rising out of her seat.

Harry gathered his bag and followed his group of friends to the library.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron whined as the group left the library nearly two hours later. "We need a break!"

"You can have a break after exams, Ron," she told him matter-of-factly. "We're going to practice potions. We can't be late."

Secretly, Harry agreed with Ron. They did need a break. He'd been staring at textbooks and writing assignments for what seemed like forever. He wanted nothing more than to go outside to the pitch and fly around for a while. But if the entire last year had taught him anything, it was that responsibility was important, and that sometimes you had to do things you really didn't want to, because they had to be done. Did that make him an adult? Harry shook his head at the odd thought.

Harry and his friends crowded at the back of the classroom once they entered. Snape had set up several cauldrons around the table stations and had laid out ingredients for them. He was standing at the front of the room, looking foreboding.

"Well don't just stand there," he snapped. "You're wasting my time."

Everyone quickly made their way to a work station and got out their text, but no one opened it because Snape hadn't written anything on the board.

"Who can tell me what potion I have allowed you to practice today?" he challenged. "Besides Ms. Granger."

Hermione's hand went down.

Harry looked at the ingredients. Darrow root, beetle eyes, unicorn tail, hyacinth leaf…he knew this potion. He'd studied it over the summer and they'd already brewed it once in class, several weeks ago. He'd done a fairly good job, from what he could remember. He was about to shoot his hand into the air when he stopped himself. He was supposed to be ignoring Snape. He wasn't going to draw attention to himself, knowing what Snape would be thinking if Harry started talking to him. So he kept his hand down and looked around at everyone else, hoping someone would say something.

"No one?" Snape drawled. "How…disappointing." He started walking away from the desk at the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "You may not begin brewing until someone other than Ms. Granger can tell me what potion these ingredients are for."

Harry saw some students flip open their books to begin looking at ingredient lists. Was he really the only other one who knew what potion this was? His studying must be paying off.

"Mr. Potter," Snape stopped short right next to Harry. "Perhaps you can tell us?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron's worried look. Harry knew Snape was looking for a reason to make a comment just deprecating enough to ensure everyone thought he still hated Harry but wasn't so out of line that it would get back to McGonagall.

"It's a level two pain relief potion," Harry finally caved, looking anywhere but at Snape.

Snape was silent for a moment. "And how do you know, Mr. Potter," Snape ground out, clearly displeased that his opportunity to demonstrate his dislike of Harry was now gone, "that it is not a level one potion?"

Harry chanced a look up at Snape. He expected to see a blazing glare or that impassive stone face Snape liked to wear. Instead, he saw what he could only interpret as surprise, and perhaps a little bit of pride.

"Well, sir," Harry continued, emboldened, "the level one potion isn't a NEWT-level potion. And I know it isn't a level three pain relief potion because those are heavily regulated by the Ministry."

Snape's eyes narrowed and scrutinized Harry. Harry's gaze never wavered. Finally, Snape turned away and continued walking around the room. "And why, Mr. Potter," he spoke in a loud voice, "do you think I have chosen this potion for you all to brew today?"

"Because you plan to torture us?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. He heard Hermione's gasp over everyone else's.

Snape spun around to face Harry, throwing daggers with his eyes. He was silent as he stalked back over to Harry's table. He stopped barely six inches from Harry and leaned over just slightly, giving the appearance he was going to speak privately to Harry. "I believe that has just earned you a detention, Mr. Potter," he said in a completely normal, albeit icy voice. He straightened up and turned to walk back up to the front of the room. "I shall be supervising your work in case any of you, unsurprising though it would be, cause any catastrophes."

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione whispered to him as they were leaving the classroom. "I can't believe you spoke like that to Professor Snape!"

Ron had muttered under his breath as soon as Snape had left Harry's side, "You've got bollocks of steel, mate."

Harry had brewed his potion perfectly, earning a "humph" from Snape upon his inspection, and then had added, "My office tomorrow evening, seven-thirty, immediately after dinner. Do not be late."

"I didn't mean to," Harry told her truthfully. "It just slipped out."

"You're lucky he didn't hex you," Ron said. "Merlin only knows what he'll have you doing for detention."

"Probably just scrubbing out cauldrons without magic," Harry guessed.

"Maybe if you ask politely he'll let you study," Hermione suggested.

Ron groaned.

"I doubt it," Harry smirked. "Maybe I should get some more detentions to have some breaks from all the studying."

"Harry!" Hermione tried to keep a straight face.

"What do you think I have to do to get detention, then?" Ron joked.

"Both of you stop! Honestly," Hermione shook her head at both of them. "Come on, then, let's go get cleaned up before dinner."

"I think that's as much of a break as we're going to get, mate," Harry grinned ruefully.

* * *

Harry had left dinner early just to make sure he wasn't late for detention. He knocked on the door at 7:29. It opened for him.

"In, Potter," Snape barked. "Come up here."

Harry walked up to Snape's desk. He saw stacks of essays strewn about, most with so many red marks they looked like they'd been whipped with a cat-o-nine-tails.

"What will I be doing, sir?" he asked demurely.

Snape looked at him suspiciously. "You shall be cleaning my classroom. Without magic."

"Including the cauldrons?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Why would he go and give Snape ideas?

Snape's lips curled up into an evil smile. "If time permits."

Harry nodded, and then turned to leave and go down to the classroom. He had made it about halfway to the door when he heard Snape's voice.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry turned around. "Going to clean classroom, sir."

"Surely you don't think me stupid enough to allow you to be in my classroom alone, for any amount of time?" Snape's tone made it clear that it was not he, but Harry, who was the stupid one.

"Erm," Harry stammered. "No, sir."

"Sit down," Snape nodded toward a chair near Harry. "We shall go once I've finished marking this essay."

Harry slid into the seat and started picking at his fingernails.

"And be quiet," Snape demanded.

As if Harry would have dared be anything else.

Only a few minutes passed and then Snape stood up, took a stack of papers in his hand, and walked around his desk. "Come," he commanded as he passed Harry. Harry stood and followed him out of the office and down the hallway into the classroom.

"Begin with the cabinets," Snape ordered him. Snape didn't even bother to look at Harry while he walked to the front of the room and sat at the desk.

"With what, sir?" Harry asked politely.

Snape waved his hand and muggle cleaning supplies appeared on the table nearest to him.

"Silently, Potter," Snape instructed.

Harry gathered the supplies and made his way to the cabinet in the farthest corner of the room. By the time he got to the second cabinet, he felt Snape's eyes on him, and when he turned around to rewet the rag, he glanced up at Snape. Snape immediately twisted his face into a scowl when Harry made eye contact.

"Sir, am I doing something wrong?" Harry asked innocently.

"If I thought you could do this without supervision, Potter," Snape told him condescendingly, "I'd have sent you in here to do it by yourself. I am merely making sure you do not damage any part of my classroom."

"All right, then," Harry nodded, suppressing a grin, and turned back to finish the second cabinet.

It wasn't too long until Harry got to a point that his angle was such where he could see Snape out of the corner of his eye as he worked. He picked up fairly quickly on the fact that Snape was doing more staring at Harry than he was marking essays. The fourth time he saw Snape drag his eyes away from Harry and back down to the papers, his shoulders shook from the laugh he was holding in.

It was mid-November, but the classroom was warm. Harry stopped when he was about two-thirds of the way done cleaning the cabinets and took off his sweater and tie. He hoped Snape wouldn't snap at him for being out of uniform. He glanced up at Snape but the man didn't seem to be paying any attention to Harry at the moment, so he went back to cleaning.

He finally finished the cabinets and decided to move on to cleaning of the table tops. He knew that would take a lot more time and elbow grease to complete, so he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. After he had finished his first table, he had started to sweat. He wiped his forearm across his forehead. At the motion, Snape looked up at him. For a second, his eyes widened, and then he snapped his gaze back down to the papers in front of him.

_Oh_, Harry thought evilly, _this is going to be fun…_

He knew Snape's eyes were flickering to him every few seconds, so he had no doubt that even if he turned his back to Snape that he was sure to have the professor's attention. He went around to the front of the table and leaned over to clean the opposite end, giving Snape a nice view of his arse, clearly defined beneath his trousers. He heard Snape clear his throat.

"Yes, sir?" Harry spun around.

"No-nothing," Snape grumbled. "Back to work."

Harry nodded and turned back around.

By the time he had finished the last table, he had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and there were sweat stains on the front and the back of his shirt. He had also untucked his shirt from his pants. He knew he looked a mess, but Snape hadn't reprimanded him once. He threw the sponge back into the bucket and stretched, letting out a muffled groan. He saw Snape eye him, but Harry pretended not to notice. He took the tail of his shirt and lifted it up to wipe his face. He knew that would give Snape a glance at his bare torso. He saw Snape shift uncomfortably.

"I've done the cabinets and the tables, sir. Shall I do the cauldrons?" Harry finally looked at Snape.

"No," Snape snapped. "I cannot babysit you any longer. I have business to attend to. You are free to leave."

_And I have a pretty good idea what that business might be_, Harry grinned inwardly, reasonably sure that Snape was going to go into his rooms and have a nice wank over thoughts of Harry cleaning the classroom in his sweaty, disheveled uniform. That didn't bother Harry nearly as much as he thought it ought to, but he found himself not really caring. Instead, he realized what he was most interested in was hearing what Snape might say to the cat about the detention tonight.

"All right, sir," Harry said in response to Snape. He left the classroom, intent on having a short shower, and then returning down to the dungeons as a cat to see if Snape would tell even more of his secrets.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Mwahahahaha! I am SO excited to have this chapter done and up! This one of the two busiest weeks of the year for me at work (I work in the assessment dept. for my school district and it's exam week) so I wasn't sure I'd get anything written this week, but I found time to do it! Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry had managed to have his shower and get back to the bedroom without running into any of his friends. He figured they were all in the library studying. He wasn't disappointed, though, because that meant he could become the cat without having to explain to anyone that he wanted to walk around alone. Once outside the common room portrait, he transformed into the cat and headed straight for the dungeons. It occurred to him that this was the first time he'd ever willingly gone down to see Snape as a cat, but he didn't really care. He was so interested in finding out more about the "real Snape", as he had taken to calling the Snape he saw as a cat, that the fact that his attitude towards Snape was shifting didn't bother him much. In fact, he was intrigued – and a little bit flattered – that someone other than Ginny would have those kinds of feelings about him. He had never considered himself particularly attractive, and it had been clear that Cho didn't really have romantic feelings for him; she just wanted to know more about Cedric's death. Romilda hadn't really liked _him_ at all, just his reputation and fame. And when he really thought about it, he wasn't sure what Ginny saw in him. He supposed she thought he was good looking, but he wasn't impressively intelligent like Hermione. He was a good Seeker, but he didn't really think that was something Ginny cared about – not in a romantic sense. He supposed he was nice enough, but he'd never been romantic or gentlemanly. He was reasonably sure he'd never done anything that would make him remarkably different than any other guy Ginny knew. The only thing that made him stand out was that a madman had hunted him since he was a baby and made Harry a veritable Bermuda Triangle for mayhem. Maybe now that's why he and Ginny weren't working. Maybe she had been attracted to the danger he was constantly in (although he thought that a bit odd, and slightly stupid), and now that it was all over, he was just boring. Maybe she had come up with the other stuff she'd said when they broke up just to make him feel better. He shook his head. He'd already arrived at Snape's office door but had been so consumed with his thoughts that he hadn't realized it.

He stared at the door, unsure of what to do. Finally, he raised a paw and scratched at the door (not with his nails, though; he could only imagine the wrath of Snape if he damaged Snape's wooden door). He waited a few moments, but resigned himself to curling up outside the door until Snape either came in or out.

He didn't have to wait long. He hadn't even gotten comfortable when he heard the door open and Snape's voice address him with a much put-upon sigh.

"Cat," he opened the door wide enough for Harry to slip in. "I've created a monster."

Harry didn't follow Snape into the kitchen as he made food for Harry to eat. Instead, Harry went straight to the sitting room and hopped up on the sofa, licking his lips. He hoped there was more salmon.

"You're a very spoilt, naughty cat, you know that, Cat?" Snape smirked as he set the plate down and then gave Harry a cursory rub on the top of the head.

Harry figured with as much as he had been through, he deserved a little bit of spoiling, even if it was as a cat.

"Oh, Cat," Snape sighed heavily as he sat down on the sofa next to Harry. "It has been quite a day, I'll have you know."

Harry paused from his eating briefly to look up questioningly at Snape, who had leaned his head back and had his hands covering his face.

"I don't know what I was thinking," Snape moaned, his voice muffled by his hands. He finally removed them and sat up, reaching over to pet Harry as he ate. "I never should have agreed to supervise a Potions tutoring session yesterday. Perhaps I should have just let them at it alone."

Harry brought his head up again with what he hoped was a skeptical look.

"No, of course you're right. The dungeons would be gone," Snape's hand stopped moving over Harry's head and was withdrawn. "But what was I to do? I can't very well ban them from preparing for exams. And everyone besides Granger desperately needs it if they hope to stay in my class."

Harry finished licking his lips and let out a "Meow" at his empty plate.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome." He paused. "I do admit I was surprised when Potter knew the potion today. I suppose he has been applying himself." Snape groaned and put his head in his hands, leaning over his knees. "Why did I supervise his detention tonight? Why didn't I just send him to Filch? I knew it would be a bad idea. I knew it would be torture." He looked over at Harry. "You may not know me well, Cat, but I happen to be a glutton for punishment." He banished the plate to the sink and patted his lap for Harry to curl up on. "Really, Cat, the boy is so clueless it is a wonder how he manages to do anything right. Ever. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he acted that way in his detention tonight on purpose." Snape began to absent-mindedly stroke Harry's back. In a few seconds, Harry was purring loudly. "But alas," Snape sighed again, "it is not to be. I'll just have to suffer through the rest of the year and then he'll be gone, and I can finally have some peace. If I can. I don't know."

There were a few moments of silence, and Harry felt Snape wave his wand and heard soft classical music waft through the air. Seconds later, a fire burst into flames in the fireplace.

"Oh, Cat," Snape said as he stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles, holding onto Harry so he didn't jump off Snape's lap. "Sometimes I think I'd trade anything for a life like yours. To be rid of these feelings of…of uselessness. What's the point, Cat? I'd wager your mother loved you a bit more than mine did. Do you even know your father? I suppose most cats don't. I wish I'd never known mine. He'd've never let me have you."

Harry shifted and curled up tighter on Snape's lap. The fire and Snape were warm, but he was determined to stay awake and hear whatever it was Snape had to say. He felt like in the past few months he'd learned more about the man than he had in seven years.

"And you never had to go to school. You were never tortured by classmates. Do cats have friends? Do you have friends, Cat?" Snape mused. "You didn't ruin your life before you were old enough to know what life really was. Or did you?" Snape's hands migrated up to Harry's head and ears. "Perhaps you ran away from your owner. Did you have a poncey life and then run off? Have you been living in the Forest because you can't find your way home?" Snape was quiet for a while. "I'm sure they miss you," he said, with an edge of sadness in his voice. "I wouldn't know what that felt like. The only reason anyone ever cared about me was for what I could do for them. I served one Master who took me on solely because of my prowess in brewing. Then, I served two Masters, who only wanted me for the information I provided to them about the other. What does someone need a cat for? You give comfort, you know that, Cat?" Snape's hand stilled.

Harry gave Snape comfort? Harry's stomach twisted with a feeling of pity – or guilt?

"But now I have no use. I cannot offer anyone anything. I have nothing to bargain with. So I am here, doing all that I know how to do. I wonder if I will ever have a purpose again. Perhaps it's not worth it. I am a Potions Master, you know. I have draughts in my stores that would end it before I could even finish the bottle."

Harry's ears perked up and he leapt up, twisting around and standing up on his hind legs and placing his front paws on Snape's chest.

"Rowrr!" he growled. Snape wanted to kill himself? He wanted to die? After everything he'd done? With his whole future ahead of him?

"You're right, Cat," Snape looked down at Harry and gave a lopsided smile. "I am getting maudlin." He picked Harry up and looked him straight in the eyes. "Perhaps I should get out of Britain. I've heard the Mediterranean is enjoyable over the summer. Perhaps when the school year is done I shall travel."

"Mrowr," Harry said in agreement. That was a much better plan.

"Perhaps I shall meet someone who can make me forget about Potter," Snape sounded dejected as he repositioned Harry on his lap and began stroking him again. "I do not know what I am going to do if he manages an 'Exceeds Expectations' on his exam. Every day he grows more and more difficult to ignore."

If this had been three weeks ago, Harry would have thought Snape was talking about hating Harry. Now Harry knew better. But why did Snape like Harry? That didn't make any sense.

"You wouldn't be the first one to ask, you know," Snape chuckled, "if anyone else knew. What is it about him? You don't know him, Cat, you don't know him like I do. We have much in common. I have been connected to him since my youth, when I knew both his parents. I was close with his mother, you know."

Harry knew how close they'd been. Snape had been in love with her. At least that's what Harry had thought before. Now, he wasn't sure anymore.

"And then I protected him, as penance for my sins. And I know you wouldn't believe this, Cat, because you've never seen me outside these rooms for very long, but I really was an awful bastard to him for the first five years he was here, and I meant it."

Harry huffed.

"But then during our private lessons I learned more about him. I realized we had a similar home life. I realized I'd been wrong about many of my assumptions. I realized I related to him, on some level."

Harry rearranged himself on Snape's lap.

"But I couldn't let anyone know, and I knew – I knew after I killed Albus, that no matter what, he would never forgive me. Maybe he has by now, I don't know. But then," Snape trailed off.

The fire crackled happily in the grate.

"Then I saw him that night, by the pond. I'd put the sword there for him to get. I didn't expect him to take off that many clothes. Even in the dark, Cat, I could see him, his…beauty. It matched his spirit – his soul. And it was over for me."

Beauty? Snape thought Harry was…beautiful? That was a crazy thought. Did Ginny think he was beautiful? Had Cho thought that? He thought only girls could be beautiful. Could guys be beautiful, too?

"And now he's here. He's not a boy any longer, Cat. If you'd known him seven years ago and you saw him now, you'd not recognize him. He's…" Snape seemed at a loss for words.

"Mrowr," Harry filled in the silence.

"You're right," Snape agreed. "I'm being ridiculous. In a few months, he'll be gone, and I can forget about it. About all of it. The Mediterranean will be just the beginning. Then I'll go to Australia. I'll make myself forget all about him.

"Maybe if I make the exam hard enough none of them will pass, and then I'll be left with a free period for myself," Snape said longingly. "Of course, Granger would be the only one who would manage an 'E', and then I'd have to teach her by herself. I'm not sure I could withstand that, Cat. The girl is really quite obnoxious."

Harry growled lowly.

He felt Snape's body shake with a laugh. "No, truly, Cat, you don't know her. She is obnoxious." He gave a vigorous rub to Harry's spine. "Brilliant, yes, but obnoxious."

* * *

Harry lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He'd stayed with Snape a little longer, but had left with plenty of time to make it back to the common room before curfew. Everyone else was asleep – or at least pretending to be asleep. But Harry was restless.

Snape thought he had a lot in common with Harry? Harry wanted to deny it. He was nothing like that nasty bastard. He would never treat anyone the way Snape had treated him. Would he? He'd treated Malfoy pretty badly, but only in self-defense. He'd never been proactive. Unless Snape felt like he had to defend himself? Harry supposed that when he first came to Hogwarts, Snape might have felt like that. Maybe Harry being there made Snape feel threatened because it reminded him of the bad things that had happened in the past. And then once Snape started…liking Harry, maybe he felt like treating Harry poorly was the only way to defend himself from people figuring it out, which would have been a very bad thing, Harry was sure. So maybe he and Snape weren't too different in that way. Snape just seemed to go a bit overboard in that department. He was a little dramatic.

But they did seem to have similarities where growing up was concerned. He'd seen Snape's memories. He knew he'd had a rough home life. Harry was no stranger to that. He figured if they ever got on speaking terms, they could have a pretty nice pissing contest with "hateful things done to me by my guardians."

And of course they had the Voldemort link. They'd both worked (differently, of course) to bring about his downfall. They'd both had key roles. Harry was the one who ultimately finished him off, but he'd have never been able to if it weren't for Snape. And he understood what Snape meant, about feeling useless; directionless. Harry felt that way himself. He knew what it felt like to have a purpose and then suddenly one day it was gone. He knew what it was like to not have anything to offer anyone. Sure, his friends cared about him; he knew they were friends with him for more than his role against Voldemort, but he still felt alone. There were things he'd experienced that most people would never understand. But Snape would. He suddenly found himself very eager to talk to Snape, as himself, about these things. _But_, he berated himself, _Snape wouldn't understand why I suddenly wanted to confide in him_.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Harry made time to go down to Snape's rooms regularly. He genuinely enjoyed Snape's company, now that he knew that Snape liked him and that they had a lot in common. He learned a lot about Snape, and a lot about what Snape liked about Harry. Whenever Harry got these tidbits of information, he played them up as much as he could. He never knew that he bit his bottom lip in concentration, or that Severus found it nearly irresistible. Harry made sure to bite his lip more often, and always made sure Snape was looking when he did it. He never knew that he smelled good (Ginny had never said anything, and he didn't wear cologne) or that Snape liked how he smelled. He had a hard time believing that anyone could smell like sunshine anyway. Harry made sure to stand just a little bit closer to Snape when he handed in his essays. He didn't know his laugh was anything special, but apparently, Snape enjoyed hearing it. Harry made sure that if he laughed and Snape was anywhere around, that he was loud enough for Snape to hear it.

And he learned that Snape was jealous. It drove him crazy when Harry was friendly with Ginny. Apparently news hadn't spread to Snape that they'd broken up. And Snape was jealous of Professor Belfacia. Harry thought this was absolutely hilarious. Snape had ranted about it to Cat after dinner one evening when Belfacia had approached Harry in the Great Hall.

"Good evening, Harry," Professor Belfacia had said with a wide smile on his face.

"Oh, good evening Professor," Harry had answered politely. He liked Professor Belfacia. Not because he was handsome (although Harry found it strangely easy to admit that he was), but because he was an engaging teacher. He wouldn't have said he was better than McGonagall, but he was certainly different. He had a much more hands-on approach, and the entire class was excelling admirably. So Harry didn't mind conversing with the teacher outside of class.

"If you've the time, I thought I might have a word with you about your plans for after NEWTs," Belfacia told him. "Would you be able to come to my office after dinner?"

"Of course, sir," Harry agreed, wondering what Belfacia wanted to talk to him about.

"That bumbling idiot!" Snape had shouted once he and Harry (cat-Harry) were inside his rooms. Harry had jumped. "Asking Potter if he wants to apprentice with him? As if Potter would give up his career as an Auror to spend time with that oaf."

Snape had then gone on to make enough veiled comments that Harry knew he was afraid Harry would find Belfacia attractive and start a relationship with him.

Harry made sure to be exceptionally friendly to Belfacia whenever Snape was around.

Then, one night Snape said something that blindsided Harry.

"That boy," Snape had growled as he sat down, "if he had a single iota of common sense, he would realize he is flirting shamelessly with me."

Harry had stopped mid-jump onto the couch and collided with the side face-first, which had broken Snape down into a cascade of laughter.

"He has no idea," Snape picked back up as his laughter died down, "no idea at all that he's taunting me. He is so naïve it's comical. If he were anybody else I would be positive he was doing it to purposefully torment me. Really, Cat," Snape wiped his hand down his face, "I am lucky I wear robes."

* * *

There was one week left before exams. It was Friday night and the castle was filled with sounds of quills scratching across parchment and groups of students quizzing each other quietly in each and every corner of the school. After the last class of the day but before dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting by themselves in a recessed alcove in the library, going over every detail they could think of. As they switched subjects, Harry took the opportunity to ask Hermione a question.

"Hermione," he asked softly, "how do you flirt with someone?"

Both she and Ron looked at him with wide, astonished eyes.

"You – you want to flirt with someone?" she whispered back.

"Finally found someone you fancy, then?" Ron nudged him with his elbow.

"No, nothing like that, just…how do you know if someone's flirting with you? What is flirting?" he tried to explain himself.

"Well," Hermione closed the book she'd been in the process of opening, "usually you find things you know the other person likes and you do them to get the other person's attention. Like some women wear tight, low-cut tops to flirt with men because most men like – well, you know."

"Yeah," Ron chimed in, "you do stuff to make them notice you. If they like what you do, they'll flirt back. Then, you get together."

Harry was thoughtful.

"Has she flirted back, mate?" Ron asked brightly.

"Wha?" Harry turned to look at him, feeling the blush rise in his cheeks. "No, it's nothing like that."

"Well, if you're not going to tell us more about it, we really should be getting back to studying," Hermione pulled the book back onto her lap and opened it up.

As she began asking both boys questions, Harry was filled with chagrin. _I've been flirting with Snape_, he thought to himself. And he found that he didn't feel all that bad about it.

An hour later, Hermione announced that it was time they packed up and headed off to dinner.

"We'll pick up with Charms afterwards," she announced.

"Oh," Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "I think I might go for a walk afterwards."

"Harry," Hermione's look was reproachful, "you really need to make your sleep more of a priority. I know you don't get back to your rooms until well after curfew every night."

Harry shot a look of betrayal towards Ron.

"Not me, mate," Ron threw his hands up in defence.

"Harry, I'm worried about you. I know you've been struggling this year with – with how you're feeling towards everything, but – maybe it's time you talked to Madame Pomfrey about getting some professional help."

"What?" Harry yelped. "What would I – I don't need – professional help with what?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione looked at him with pity, "it's obvious you're depressed. You're always going off on your own. You're having trouble sleeping. You don't know what to do with your life anymore. I understand. But we're not able to help you. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey has some ideas about how to get back on track. I worry about you wandering off every night."

"I never get caught," Harry defended himself.

"It's not about House points, Harry," Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. "We're all worried about you."

Harry glared at Ron.

"You're never in your bed, mate. You're always wanting to be alone, wandering around," Ron pointed out.

"I'm fine," Harry protested, "I promise. It's not like that."

Hermione's eyes glistened. "Maybe not," she squeezed his shoulder, "but please, promise me you'll talk to someone if – if things seem like they might be getting too tough."

"Too tough?" Harry was confused.

"To deal with," she clarified.

Harry suddenly understood. "Hermione, no!" he shook his head and looked pleadingly at Ron. "No, it's not like that, I swear. I would never – I never – I promise, I'm not…"

"It's alright, Harry," Ron smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "I told you you were overreacting," he said to Hermione.

"Caring about someone's mental health isn't overreacting, Ronald," Hermione said waspishly.

"C'mon," Ron jerked his head in the direction of the library's exit, "let's go eat before she can come up with some plan to make us study during dinner."

The three headed out of the alcove, but stopped short when they nearly collided with a dark, tall figure.

"My, my, my," Snape's voice made it sound like he was a spider who had caught a particularly juicy fly. "What interesting things one hears if one knows where to listen."

Harry's stomach dropped. How much had Snape heard?

"Seems to me there ought to be more regular…bed checks…in Gryffindor Tower," Snape finished in a threatening voice, and then he turned and walked away from the trio.

"I'd say you better stay in for the next few nights, Harry," Ron leaned in and whispered under his breath.

Hermione looked equal parts terrified and smug.

* * *

After dinner that night, everyone went back to the Tower to study.

"I'm awfully tired," Harry faked a yawn. "I think I'll just turn in for the night."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked him. "We have so much more we can go over."

"I know, but I won't get anything out of it if I'm falling asleep," he pointed out.

"Well, at least we know you didn't miss curfew," Hermione gave a solid nod. "See you tomorrow."

Once he had gone up to his room, Harry got his invisibility cloak out and pulled it over himself. He was going to see Snape, and Hermione wasn't going to stop him. Once he was outside the portrait hole, he walked a ways until he found a suit of armor hidden off in a corner. He took his cloak off and folded it up and wedged it behind the suit. He then transformed into the cat and began his trek down to the dungeons.

The castle was dead. Students were all in their Houses, since even the 8th year curfew had elapsed. He was about halfway down to the dungeons when he rounded a corner and pulled up short at what he saw.

"And, Sir Nicholas," Snape was addressing the Gryffindor ghost, "what did you find?"

"Young Mr. Potter is not in his bed, Professor," Nearly-Headless Nick answered him gravely. "Shall I search the castle for him?"

"Oh, no, Sir Nicholas," Snape said in a falsely sweet voice. "I shall tend to it myself."

Nick's ghost nodded, and then he floated away through the wall.

_Oh shit_, Harry thought. _If I run, I can get back before he gets there. Unless he has some sort of special teacher privilege passageways or something._

"Oh, Potter," Snape had a truly evil grin on his face, "your cloak won't help you now." And with that, Snape pulled his wand out and set it on his palm. Harry could only watch, frozen in terror, when he heard Snape's next words. "Point me, Harry Potter."

And the wand spun to directly where Harry stood.

_Ohhhhh no_, Harry thought he was going to be sick. _Can I still outrun him? Not anymore. What am I going to do?_

Harry was unable to formulate anymore thoughts, though, because Snape came striding right towards him. He had regripped his wand and had a Lumos spell lighting his way.

"Cat," Harry knew Snape wouldn't miss him, even though his fur was black. "Would you like to come on an adventure this evening?"

"Mrowr," Harry mewed glumly.

"Follow me, then. You'll finally get to meet the famous Harry Potter," Snape put the wand back in his hand and it spun again, pointing right in front of him, which was where Harry was.

Snape began to walk again, following the point of the wand. Harry tried to keep up with him, but his legs were short and Snape's strides were long and fast. Soon, Snape was jerking to a stop every few feet.

"What?" he finally stopped and grabbed his wand, shaking it. "What is wrong with this?" He put it back in his hand and commanded strongly, "Point me, Harry Potter." The wand spun until it pointed to exactly where Harry was, which was just behind Snape. Snape turned around and before Harry could adjust, Snape had taken three steps but stopped again when the wand spun back around to where Harry stood. He strode quickly in that direction but before Harry could move, Snape had stopped short again as the wand turned back toward Harry. In the light of the wand, Harry could see a look dawn on Snape's face.

In a move so fast, Harry couldn't even see it, Snape slashed a Petrificus Totalus curse at Harry, who toppled over onto his side, although his eyes were open, so he could see Snape as Snape took two steps closer to Harry.

Snape lay his wand out on his palm and said in a slow, deliberate, stony voice, "Point. Me. Harry. Potter."

The wand spun straight to Harry. Snape took three steps to the left, keeping his hand out in front of him. The wand stayed trained on Harry. Snape took three steps to the right, coming back in front of Harry. The wand stayed trained on Harry. Snape took three more steps to the right, and the wand stayed trained on Harry. Harry was sure he'd never seen anyone walk as slowly as Snape did as he came back to stand directly in front of Harry.

From Harry's vantage point, Snape was sideways, but his face, and its expression, were crystal clear.

In that moment, Harry knew he was going to die. And although he'd survived Voldemort's Killing Curse twice, he didn't think he had any unknown power that would protect him from Snape's. He just hoped Snape would make it quick and painless. But he figured that was probably in vain.

As Snape descended on him, the only thing Harry could think of was if anyone would ever find his invisibility cloak.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I am so glad you all liked the last chapter! I'd been itching to write it. This one took a little while because I had to get it just right. I hope everyone is pleased with it. Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry had been thrown unceremoniously onto the sofa in Snape's sitting room. He was thankful it was soft, and that he had not yet been killed, hexed, or cursed. He had landed on his side and was now watching Snape pace back and forth in front of him, hands tearing at hair, looking quite deranged. Sparks were shooting out of Snape's wand, an indication of how much rage the man was harbouring.

Snape was muttering something. "…not true…maybe…wrong…"

Suddenly, Snape stopped pacing and turned to face Harry, pointing his wand straight at the cat.

_This is it_, Harry thought to himself, _he's either going to torture me or I'm going to die_.

Instead, however, Harry felt his body tingle and he began to transform back into his human self. He was still Petrified, however – figuratively and literally. The look of rage on Snape's face was joined by devastation.

"I _trusted_ you!" Snape cried out, true pain evident in his voice. "I took you in! I fed you! I – oh God," Snape brought his hands back up to pull his hair, "I _pet_ you! I _touched_ you!"

Harry struggled against Snape's Petrificus Totalus spell. He desperately wanted to explain himself – although he hadn't the faintest clue how to do so. But he wanted to try.

"The things I told you," Snape had resumed pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hands holding the sides of his head as if he were suffering from a terrible headache. "The things you heard…the things you," Snape stopped and looked at Harry, his eyes widening in terror, "saw…"

Harry knew Snape was remembering the night he'd awoken to Harry on his pillow after he'd come calling Harry's name.

Snape suddenly stopped pacing and dropped his hands from the sides of his head. "No one will believe you," he whispered hoarsely. "The headmistress will never believe you…who did you tell? How many people know?"

The rage that had left Snape and been replaced with horror returned full force. "I thought I'd been wrong! I thought you were better than him! I thought – after what I saw – after what you saw – I never dreamed…" Snape lowered his voice to a deadly growl. "You are _exactly_ like your father."

Harry thought he might be sick. He was struggling valiantly against the spell, growing more and more desperate to justify his actions, regardless of how unjustifiable they were.

"Of course," Snape sneered, "telling everyone about the 'greasy git' – about his personal life, his secrets…how perverted his mind is…how much of a pedophile he is…having a laugh while you taunted me, knowing it would be torture…yes, yes, just like your father! Forever thinking up new ways to torment those he felt were beneath him…"

"I came back!" Harry screamed at him, finally breaking out of the spell. His shout startled Snape enough to send the man stumbling backwards into the fireplace. "I came back after that night! I don't think you're a git, or a pervert, or a pedophile! And I never told anyone! Nothing! No one knew anything! I would never do that to you – to anyone – but definitely not you! I…"

Harry was silenced by a wave of Snape's wand. He advanced on Harry, "Don't. Lie. To ME."

Harry pressed himself back against the sofa, trying to create more space between himself and Snape.

"I refuse to believe you were not gloating every second, with every tidbit you gleaned from your spying," Snape was close enough to Harry that the spittle flying from his mouth was visible as it sailed through the air. "The punishment for being an unregistered Animagus is time in Azkaban," he said menacingly.

Harry's face paled. He hadn't known that. Or hadn't remembered it – he was sure he should have known it.

"What?" Snape mocked. "No breaking out of my spell to yell your defense? I shall take such pleasure from seeing you expelled from this school and rotting away in Azkaban for years."

Snape backed away from Harry, a look of pure hatred on his face. "You disgust me."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, unsure if he'd broken another spell or if Snape had freed him from it. "I'm so, so sorry. You're right. I do deserve Azkaban. And I do deserve to be expelled. I'll leave; I'll go finish at Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. You'll never have to see me again. I just…please believe that I didn't do it on purpose, and I didn't ever gloat. I didn't do it to be mean. It just happened. You found me that day and you were so nice to me, and I…you were so different when I was a cat. I started to like being around you. I didn't care about what I – saw," Harry hoped Snape knew he meant that night in the bedroom. "I didn't mean to torture you," Harry continued, amazed that Snape was letting him speak for so long. "I was stupid. It was stupid. I wasn't thinking. I never think. But all I cared about was that you were so nice to me, and I liked being able to comfort you. And – and I realized how much we have in common. I feel the same way – I know what it feels like to not have a purpose, to feel useless. I need someone who understands that – who understands me. When I was with you, I didn't feel so lost. I – I needed that."

A realization dawned on Harry. His thoughts flickered back to his conversation with Ginny so long ago. "I need you. You're what I need. I need someone who's been through what I've been through. No one else understands. Not really. I can't talk about these things with my friends. But you understand. I wanted to talk with you – I've wanted to for so long, but I knew you wouldn't – not to Harry. But you always talked to the cat. I swear – I swear I never meant to hurt you. I was stupid and childish and selfish, but I never meant to hurt you."

Snape looked like he had a war waging inside of him. His expression was an odd combination of disgust, a wounded animal, and relief.

"Please," Harry took advantage of Snape's silence. "Please forgive me. I'll go away, I'll leave. I'll go to Azkaban. You'll never have to see me again. Just – just please forgive me. Please believe me that I didn't do this on purpose."

There were several moments of silence, and then Snape sighed heavily and sat down in the armchair across from the sofa, defeated.

"Of course you're not going to Azkaban," he sounded resigned. "And you'll finish your year here. I've – you must know I've – I've no desire to see you leave," he finished, embarrassed.

Harry felt a surge of hope.

"You are the stupidest," Snape put his head in the hand that wasn't holding his wand, "most idiotic, imbecile…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, chancing a bit of levity. "I really don't know what you see in me."

Snape jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes, seemingly unsure if Harry was mocking him. Satisfied that Harry was being genuine, Snape asked, "It does not upset you, knowing that I – how I…"

"Not really," Harry admitted, "bit flattered, really. I mean, I don't deserve it – not at all, but it doesn't bother me." Harry folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "I was hoping – I mean, do you think I could still come see you? I meant it – about how I feel when I'm with you. I mean, I understand if you don't want to, but…I'd like to try and be friends. As people," he clarified, feeling like Snape and the cat were already friends.

"I'm not sure that's – wise…" Snape doubted.

"I promise I won't change the way I act around you in class or anything. And I'll never let anyone know that I come down here. And I'll never tell anyone how you act when you're alone. I just – I need someone who understands me."

Snape was silent for a while. Finally, he spoke, his chin resting in his hand and his finger touching his bottom lip, "Well, I suppose you will be seeing quite a lot of me."

Harry was puzzled, but hopeful.

"As you shall be spending detention with me every weekday evening for the foreseeable future," Snape pronounced.

Harry's face fell.

"Most of which will be spent studying for your exams and NEWTs," he clarified.

That made Harry feel a bit better.

"I should be most displeased if you were to be dropped from Potions," Snape added softly.

Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Surely that does not surprise you now?" Snape smirked.

"No – I just – I'll study hard, Professor. I'll pass. After all, I've got more incentive now," Harry smiled.

"Go back to your rooms, now," Snape stood and smoothed down his robes. Harry stood as well, and followed Snape to the office door, then to the door leading into the hallway. Snape opened the door for him and Harry transformed back into the cat and slipped out. He turned his head back around to look at Snape. "Oh," Snape drawled, "and fifty points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew." And before Harry could even growl, the door was slammed shut.

* * *

"Every night?!" Ron shouted across the table at breakfast the next morning. Heads turned from every direction at his outburst.

"Shhh!" Hermione swatted at him.

"No," Harry said solemnly, "I deserve it. I deserve worse, actually."

"What did you do, Harry?" Hermione said in her best teacher and/or mother voice.

"I can't tell you," Harry explained. "But it was bad. Bad enough that I'm lucky I'm not expelled. Or going to Azkaban."

"Blimey, Harry," Ron's eyes were wide. "What did you do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's just said he can't tell us."

"Oh, right," Ron nodded and took another bite of waffle.

"Do you think he'll make you serve detention even over the holidays while you're here?" Hermione asked him concernedly.

"Probably," Harry surmised. "But he did say most of the time I'd be studying for exams or NEWTs."

Hermione looked satisfied. "Well, that's all right, then. It'll be more like tutoring, most likely, and not so much detention."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry supposed, "but I'm sure I'll still be cleaning out my fair share of cauldrons."

"Well, hopefully you'll be done serving them before Quidditch starts back up," Ron said hopefully.

Harry groaned. He hadn't thought about that. "I doubt it," he admitted.

"Well, don't think about that now, you've got a while before things pick back up," Hermione reached across the table and patted his hand.

"You'll still be able to come to the Burrow for Christmas, though, right?" Ron was suddenly worried.

"I think so," Harry glanced up at the head table, but Snape wasn't looking at him. "He didn't say I wouldn't."

"Well, I'll make sure Mum lets him know you're expected at our place, so he doesn't get any ideas," Ron sounded confident.

Harry was pretty sure that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be much help if Snape decided that part of Harry's punishment should be to miss Christmas, but again, it was no more than he deserved. He didn't share his thoughts with Ron.

"All right," Hermione's tone was determined, "it's our last week before exams. Let's make it count." And she stood and motioned for the two boys to follow her.

"To the library!" Ron shot his finger into the air in mock excitement. Hermione looked back at him and shook her head with a slight smile.

* * *

"During these detentions, you will be engaging in two separate tasks. The first half of your time will be spent cleaning any part of my classroom or supplies that are in need. The second half you will be studying – either by working on your essays or through practical application," Snape sat behind his desk and looked seriously at Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

He spent the next hour cleaning the tables and equipment in the Potions classroom. The classroom was cool enough that Harry didn't sweat or feel the need to remove any layers of clothing. Harry was sure Snape had done that on purpose.

"I shall be assessing your Charm work tonight," Snape announced.

They had been working about half an hour, and Harry had done quite admirably, he thought.

"Have you given any thought to Professor Belfacia's proposal of apprenticeship?" Snape asked out of the blue.

It took Harry a moment to jump to that train of thought. "Oh, that," he rubbed the back of his neck. "A bit, yeah, I suppose."

"Is it something that interests you? Your performance in Transfiguration must be impressive to be offered an apprenticeship," Snape crossed his arms and leaned against his desk.

"I guess," Harry admitted. "I'm not sure what I would do with it, though."

"There is plenty you could do with an apprenticeship in Transfiguration," Snape assured him. "You could become a professor. You could go into research and theory. You could work for the Ministry."

"I'm not sure any of that suits me, sir," Harry looked at his feet and toed the ground.

"And being an Auror?" Snape probed. "Does that suit you?"

"I don't really know anymore," Harry confessed. "Everything's just been so different after…after all of it ended. I don't feel like the same person I was before."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "That is understandable. Could you elaborate?"

Harry hopped up on the nearest table and swung his legs. "I'm not really sure. I just feel like, my whole life there's been this goal; this purpose. Now it's gone. Everything I wanted before – I'm not sure I wanted it because it was what I wanted or because it seemed to fit with who I was and what I was supposed to do. I'm not sure I want a career that's constantly filled with danger." Harry sighed. "When the battle was over, and I'd gotten Dumbledore's wand from Voldemort, I decided I didn't want to keep it. I told Ron and Hermione that the wand was more trouble than it was worth, and I'd had enough trouble for a lifetime."

"That, you have," Snape's lip curled up into a half-smile.

"But I'm not sure what else to do. I was sort of raised to fight. I've been fighting since I was old enough to know there was something to fight for. I had to fight for everything at my Aunt's house. They never did anything for me willingly. I had to fight for attention, food, clothes, everything. If I hadn't fought for it, I'm not sure what they would have done with me."

Snape's brow furrowed into a frown.

"Then I got to Hogwarts and I was constantly fighting – fighting Malfoy, the basilisk, dementors, the tasks in the Tri-wizard Tournament, Voldemort, his visions. Fighting against you," he finished quietly. "I've got nothing left to fight," he said more to himself than to Snape. "I feel like I don't even know who I really am. I'm Quidditch and The-Boy-Who-Lived. I'm good at landing myself in the infirmary, catching snitches, and defeating Dark Lords. If I'm not an Auror, what else am I going to do?" Harry felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, and he pressed his palms against them, forbidding himself to cry in front of Snape.

When he took his hands away from his eyes, he saw that Snape had come over to stand in front of him. Snape looked torn, like he wanted to comfort Harry, but was not sure he should do so.

"Harry," Snape reached out and grasped one of Harry's shoulders, "you are more than what you have done in your past. You are more than a Seeker. You are more than the subject of a prophecy. You are you." Snape caved in and moved to stand between Harry's legs, enveloping him in a strong, comforting hug. Harry wrapped his arms around Snape and buried his face in Snape's robes. He felt the tears leaking out of his eyes.

"One does not have to be useful to have worth, Harry," Snape's strong voice vibrated through Harry.

* * *

"We've got Transfiguration in the morning and Herbology in the afternoon," Hermione was looking at a piece of parchment with a complex schedule chart. Her eyes were darting all over the page. She sounded a bit breathless and looked almost manic.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron rubbed her arm. "We're all going to do fine."

"You can't just assume that, Ron!" Hermione shrugged off his hand and set the parchment on the table. "These exams are the closest thing we'll get to a real NEWT. If we don't do well on these, how can we expect to pass our NEWTs? And what about Potions? If we don't manage 'Exceeds Expectations,' Professor Snape is going to drop us from his class. Do you know how many careers require a NEWT in Potions?"

Neither Harry nor Ron answered her. Not only did they not know, but they hoped it was rhetorical, and they hoped she wouldn't decide to list each and every one of them.

"No. It's just foolish to assume we'll all do well. Here," she thrust a sheet of parchment at each of them. "I've made schedules for both of you."

Neither boy was surprised, as she did this nearly every year.

"If we stick to this schedule, we'll be maximizing our studying for each subject. It's the best we can do," she finished, dejected.

Harry glanced over his schedule and noted that every moment of his day for the entire week was filled with something to do with exams. "I suppose sleep is an elective, then?" he joked.

"What?" Hermione snapped at him. "I've scheduled in your sleep time. And don't you even _think_ about wandering out at night, Harry Potter. I haven't spent the last seven years helping you through every class just so you can make yourself too tired to pass your last winter exams."

"Don't worry," Harry promised her. He didn't feel the need to sneak out to see Snape right now, since he had a few hours with him every night.

"Well?" Hermione looked back and forth between Harry and Ron. "What are you waiting for? We've got ninety minutes of Transfiguration work to be doing before bed! Go get your books!"

The two boys exchanged a look and an eye roll, and then marched up to their room to get their texts.

* * *

It was Thursday night and Harry was in Snape's classroom, finishing up his cleaning. Snape was engrossed in his marking.

"Sir," Harry approached the desk once he knew the first hour had elapsed. Snape looked up at him. "Are you marking our Potions exams from today?"

"I am," Snape confirmed.

"Have you gotten to mine yet?" he asked.

"I have not," Snape answered.

"Would you tell me how I did on the practical?" Harry's heart sped up as he anticipated learning whether or not he might still be in Snape's class after holidays.

"I will not," Snape denied him. "You will have to wait to find out with the rest of the students."

"Shall I keep cleaning so you can continue marking the essays? Or am I going to study?" Harry hoped he would not have to clean anymore, but also wanted to know his Potions fate as soon as possible.

"Your final exam tomorrow is Defence, is it not?" Snape set down his quill.

Harry nodded.

"Very well. I will take you through a practical very much like you should expect to see tomorrow afternoon," Snape stood and made his way around the desk.

First, Snape had Harry fire off curses at him, to assess how well Harry would do tested on offensive skills. Then, Harry soon found himself blocking an assortment of high-level curses and hexes. Everything Snape threw at him was non-verbal. Harry was doing well, deflecting nearly everything completely, when Snape cast something he hadn't ever seen before. He put up a generic shield, but it wasn't strong enough to stop the curse, and the light shot straight through and hit Harry dead in the chest, sending him backwards onto the floor. He felt the wind knock out of him and heard his head crack against the stones before his world went black.

"…Rennervate, dammit!" Harry heard Snape's voice above him and he opened his eyes, his world swimming into focus. He felt Snape's hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

"Ow," Harry muttered, feeling the sharp pain where his head had collided with the floor.

Snape let out a sigh of relief. "Stay still, Harry," he ordered, "I have to check you for a concussion. I've already reversed the curse I sent."

Harry saw the tip of Snape's wand glow as it was pointed at his face. Harry wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, but Snape must have been satisfied at whatever he saw, because he gave a curt nod. "Can you get up?" Snape asked, pushing himself to his feet.

"You're not going to make me go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head with a wince.

"Do you feel the need to go?" Snape reached his hand down toward Harry to help him up.

"Not really," Harry grabbed Snape's hand and pulled himself up, but at about halfway up, his world lurched suddenly to the side as a wave of dizziness hit him, and he collapsed back down on the floor. Snape had been unprepared for the shift in weight and movement, and he was pulled down with Harry, landing on top of him with a grunt.

Harry laughed, "Sorry."

He felt Snape's body shake with returning humor. "Graceful, as always," Snape smirked.

Harry was suddenly very aware that he was pinned under Snape. He felt the warmth of Snape's body and the solid weight covering him. He felt Snape move to get back up, Harry's arm seemed to act of its own accord and reached out to grasp the back of Snape's head. Snape's eyes widened in surprise, but Harry didn't give him time to utter a single word before he pulled Snape's face to his and their lips touched.

Instantly, Harry felt his body surge with heat. Snape stiffened, but Harry wrenched his other hand away from Snape's and brought it up to wrap around Snape's back, keeping him in place. He could feel Snape's hesitation, but when he let out a small whimper, it seemed to be Snape's undoing. Suddenly, Snape started kissing him – really kissing him. Harry was blinded by the rush of feeling, both physical and emotional. His ears were pounding with blood and he could barely feel the rest of his body through the flood of adrenaline.

_This_, Harry cheered inside, this was what he'd been craving for with Ginny. The electricity, the desire. He realized he was hard, and he desperately needed Snape to know. He thrust his hips up into Snape and found an answering hardness above him. He let out a gasp and detached his mouth from Snape's, arching his neck. Snape's mouth instantly traveled down to explore the expanse of the column. Snape had repositioned both his hands on either side of Harry and used his leverage to thrust his own hips down into Harry's. They rutted against each other, Harry's legs wrapping around Snape's. Snape sucked on Harry's earlobe and gave it a light bite.

"Oh, fuck!" Harry groaned, grinding his hips faster.

"Yes," Snape whispered into Harry's ear.

"I'm – I'm fuck!" Harry cried out, and then he exploded, feeling the wetness spread across the front of his trousers.

He was barely coherent enough to hear Snape whisper his name and convulse on top of him.

They both lay there for a short while, gathering themselves. Snape must have cast a non-verbal, wandless cleaning charm, because Harry felt the wetness at his groin disappear. Snape rolled off of Harry onto the floor beside him.

"I'm sorry," Snape apologized.

Harry looked over at him. "Me too."

Snape's expression was full of rejection and embarrassment.

"Only because we did it on the floor," Harry reassured him. "Next time, I'd like to do it proper, in a bed."

Snape's eyes widened.

"Why're you sorry?" Harry suddenly felt insecure. Did he not live up to Snape's fantasies?

Snape sat up and ran his hand through his hair. "Because we should not have done that. I am your teacher, I should have – I should have stopped it."

"No!" Harry protested, sitting up so quickly his world spun again. "I didn't want it to stop! I don't care that you're my teacher. I'm of age – even in the muggle world."

Snape stood up, looking pained. "My actions are – this was inappropriate. You're detentions are over. Go back to your rooms."

"What?!" Harry yelped. He got to his feet as fast as he could, staggering a bit. Snape reached out and steadied him, and Harry felt his cheeks flush with the touch. "Why? Don't send me away! I thought – we were getting on so well," Harry's voice was laced with despair. "Please don't send me away. I need you," he pleaded. "I feel sane when I'm with you. I won't kiss you again. We can forget it ever happened."

"I believe I will find that difficult," Snape's cheeks tinged with red as he straightened his robes.

"But I can wait," Harry promised. "I can wait until after I'm done with NEWTs. I won't – we won't do anything like that again. I mean, you probably don't even want to. I understand if I didn't, you know," Harry rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "live up to expectations."

"Live up to…?" Snape took two swift steps forward and enveloped Harry in a hug. "You ridiculous…why are you so eager to spend time with me? What could you possibly see in me?" Snape seemed to be asking himself that last question.

Harry pushed back from Snape's chest. "Are you joking? You're brave, and funny, and brilliant, and kind…" Harry trailed off at the look in Snape's eyes.

"I am not funny," he denied, pretending to sound offended. "And I am not kind. Surely your last seven years would have made that clear."

"You were kind to the cat. You're kind when no one's around. You're kind to the people you care about," Harry rebutted.

"You are delusional," Snape shook his head and let Harry out of the hug. "Fine," he relented, "you will finish serving your detentions with me. But nothing like this can ever happen again."

Harry's protest showed on his face.

"Until you have finished your NEWTs," Snape huffed. "If you are still suffering from your delusions."

Harry's face broke into a blinding grin. "I can wait," he nodded.

"Now go," Snape shooed him away. "I have exams to mark. Straight back to the Tower," he commanded. "No detours. It's near curfew and I'll not have you using detention as an excuse to wander about the corridors after hours."

"Of course, sir," Harry smiled cheekily. He made his way to the door and turned back around to look at Snape, who had sat back down at his desk and was sifting through the exams. As he stepped into the hallway, he heard a thud and a groan. He popped his head back in the classroom and saw Snape's head face-down on his desk.

"Potter," he heard Snape say into his lap in a tortured voice.

Harry ducked back out and headed to his rooms with a smile.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I am so glad people were pleased with Snape's reaction. I really did try to balance his anger with his feelings for Harry. I am having so much fun writing this story for you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

"Hermione," Harry leaned over to speak in a low voice, "do you think I could talk with you for a minute alone? After dinner?"

Hermione gave him a questioning look, glancing around to see if anyone else at the table had heard. "Of course, Harry," she answered back softly. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Harry shook his head, brushing off her concern, "I just have a question for you."

Hermione nodded gently.

"…have to stay here, mate," Ron was saying. "I wish you could come spend the whole holidays with us."

Harry grinned at Ron. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll get plenty to eat, so your Mum will be pleased, and I'm sure I'll be serving my detentions with Snape, so I'll have time to get a head-start on studying for the new term, Hermione."

"If he makes you serve detention while you're on holiday, Snape's an even bigger bastard than I thought," Ron grimaced.

"Well, I'm hoping if I serve them over break that he won't be too averse to letting me off easy for Quidditch, when it starts back up," Harry reassured Ron. "I'd rather spend some of my free time now in detention than have to miss practices or games."

"'s a good point," Ron nodded, taking a large mouthful of turkey.

"I think that's a very responsible, mature attitude, Harry," Hermione condoned. "I think it says a lot that you're willing to shoulder the consequences for your actions."

"Still can't tell us, then?" Ron tried once again.

"Nope," Harry denied them. "Still can't."

As dinner drew to a close, Harry nudged Hermione and whispered, "Room of Requirement?"

She nodded.

As the students filed out of the Great Hall, Harry saw Hermione lean in to Ron and murmur something in his ear. Ron looked back at Harry and then gave a nod, walking past Hermione and leaving her to speak with Harry alone. They made it to the Room of Requirement and slipped inside, then both sat down on the cozy armchairs that had appeared.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked with concern.

"Oh, nothing's the matter, really, I just needed your help," Harry was trying to keep from becoming embarrassed. "You're just always so good with this kind of thing – I mean, I can't ask Ron, and – I'm not sure who else I could really talk to about it."

Hermione had a look of intense concentration on her face, much like she got when she was set a particularly difficult task in class.

"So," Harry began awkwardly, "how would someone, you know, know if they were – were gay?"

There was a beat of silence before Hermione's face broke into a sly smile. "You think you're gay?"

Harry had his legs tucked up under him and he stared into his lap, picking at his fingernails. "I don't know. I didn't think so, but…how would I know? I mean, I got on well with Ginny, and I thought Cho was pretty."

"Are you attracted to any other girls?" Hermione asked with a clinical air.

"Not right now. But, I mean, do people just switch like that? Like one day they might fancy a girl and the next day a bloke? Is that how it's supposed to work?" Harry reached up and ran his hand through his messy hair.

"Is there a boy you find attractive?" she continued.

"Erm, I think so," Harry blushed. "He likes me," he clarified for her.

"How do you know that?" she folded her hands in her lap.

"I – I kind of – overheard him telling someone else," Harry lied. Sort of.

"Who is it?" Hermione couldn't hide her interest.

"I can't tell you," Harry found himself wishing that he could. "But the other day I sort of kissed him," Harry finished with his eyes on his lap.

"You kissed him?" Hermione shrieked and brought her hands to her mouth in shock.

"Yeah," Harry looked up, smirking a bit at the comical look of surprise on her face. "I didn't plan it or anything. I wasn't even thinking when it happened. It was just – I didn't even decide to do it. I just – he was there and I felt him – and it felt," he stammered, looking to Hermione for help. Her eyes shone with excitement. "It just felt so _right_," he pleaded, willing her to understand. "It was everything I used to feel for Cho; for Ginny. But now it was with him. What's wrong with me, Hermione? Did – do you think that when I died, something – something _changed_ me?"

A laugh bubbled up from Hermione's throat. "Oh, Harry," she got up and made her way over to Harry's armchair, waving her wand and enlarging it enough that she could sit down next to him. "Nothing's wrong with you. Dying didn't change you. Plenty of people find both men and women attractive. For whatever reason, you no longer think of girls that way. Maybe it had something to do with everything you've been through – being aware of those feelings – but it's always been there." She put her arm around his shoulders. "I'm surprised you ever even had a thing with Cho or Ginny, to be honest," she said with chagrin. "I sort of thought you were completely gay."

Harry pulled back suddenly. "What? Why on Earth would you think that?!"

Hermione looked guilty. "Oh, girls just have this sense about things. After the disaster with Cho, I was really surprised that you ended up with Ginny. But when everything was over, she and I talked, and even she knew that you were probably not completely straight."

"So you did talk her into breaking up with me," Harry sulked.

"No!" Hermione protested. "No, it wasn't anything like that. It was just – we just talked it through. It helped for her to have someone to talk to about it. But she would have gotten there on her own."

"But how am I going to ever really be with someone, then? If at any point my body might just decide to start liking a completely different gender!" Harry was fighting back panic and tears. "Who would ever want to be with someone who might just leave them without a reason?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione took his hand in hers. "I don't think it will be like that. I think that it will be just like any other person. If you're with someone and it isn't working, you'll break up. If you fall in love and it's the right person, you'll stay in love. I don't think you'll just randomly stop loving someone or being attracted to them. I don't think it works that way."

"But it might!" Harry yanked his hand away from her. "How am I ever going to have a relationship, not knowing if I'm going to be able to stay in it? How can I control it?"

"Harry," she tried to soothe him, "you're getting all worked up over nothing. It's love. It's not something you can control. See how it goes with this boy. If it goes well – stay with it."

"I don't want to hurt him, Hermione," he whispered.

"Then be honest with him. No one can fault you if you're up front," she suggested. "But I think you're worrying about something you don't need to worry about."

"You won't tell anyone about this," Harry looked at her, suddenly nervous, "right?"

"Of course not!" She gave him a hug. "And if you ever want to tell me who it is, I'll keep that secret, too."

Hermione's expression turned calculating. "Harry, did that kiss have something to do with why you're serving so many detentions with Professor Snape?"

Harry couldn't control the blush that rose in his cheeks. "I – it – erm," he stuttered.

"Harry James Potter," Hermione stood up and towered over him. "What did you do?"

Harry looked uncomfortable and abashed.

"Never mind," she waved her hands in front of her. "I don't want to know! Just – I don't care if it's a girl or a boy – just keep it in your pants!" And she whirled around and headed to the door.

Harry was stunned in the chair, left spluttering behind Hermione.

* * *

It was the first Monday of Christmas holidays and dinner had ended. Harry stood in front of Snape's office door in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He knocked on the door gently.

"Potter," Snape said through the crack of the open door. "Why are you here?"

"Detention, sir," Harry answered solemnly.

"It's holidays," Snape said, as though Harry may have been unaware.

"Yes, sir, but I didn't want to assume that meant I was free from detention. Unless you're busy and don't want me to serve it. But I deserve it, sir, so I'm here," Harry looked confidently at Snape.

"How…mature," Snape tried to sneer, but faltered somewhat. He opened the door wider. "You are right that you deserve to spend your holidays suffering through detention," he confirmed, ushering Harry inside the office.

"If I apologized again, would you forgive me?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I may," Snape had his back to Harry as he walked to his desk, "if you apologize enough times."

"I wouldn't blame you if you never did," Harry said softly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Harry," Snape sighed, sitting down, "you are one of the most unobservant, naïve, oblivious persons alive."

Harry thought Snape sounded a bit endeared, but he wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not.

"I have come to the conclusion, after my many years of getting to know you, that the hurtful things you do are not out of malice, but sheer lack of forethought. I cannot imagine you ever intending to do someone harm that wasn't deserved, and if it was, I thoroughly believe you would own up to your actions. You have said you did not spend time with me as a cat with the intent of doing me harm, and I believe you."

"You do?" Harry blurted out, surprised.

"I do," Snape nodded. "But your impetuousness is going to lead you into trouble that you cannot apologize your way out of. In fact, it has in the past."

Snape left it unsaid, but Harry knew he was referring to the Ministry incident and the death of Sirius.

"You must learn to think things through before you say or do them. Regardless of what career you choose, failure to learn this skill will result in your being dismissed. Or worse." Snape looked critically at Harry.

"I know," Harry agreed.

"So," Snape's tone indicated an abrupt shift of topic, "detention. Tonight, you will make a list of everything that you enjoy doing, along with a detailed explanation of why you enjoy it."

Harry was puzzled. "Really? That's it?"

Snape gave a wry smile. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that is 'it'." Snape waved his hand and a desk appeared for Harry, with parchment and a quill. "Sit," Snape directed him. "You'll find this may take a while."

"All right, sir," Harry complied and began with the thing he enjoyed most: flying.

Harry had been writing for a bit on why he enjoyed flying when he felt Snape's eyes on him. He realized he'd been gnawing at his lower lip, and he looked up shyly at Snape, whose eyes snapped back down to the exams he was marking. Harry thought back to the kiss they had shared Thursday night and his conversation with Hermione. He studied Snape for a few moments, trying to gauge his attraction to the man. He didn't turn Harry on just by looking at him. Harry wasn't sure what made a man attractive, but he didn't think there was anything in Snape's face that would be considered such. Harry did think he had interesting eyes, though. There were a lot of things Snape could communicate just through his eyes. Harry watched Snape mark essays. He did have nice hands. They were elegant, in a way. Long, slender fingers. Harry remembered their strength when Snape had helped him up off the floor. He thought about how Snape had felt on top of him. He thought about how Snape made him feel when he'd been the cat, and how grounded he felt around the man. The thoughts of Snape that way – about who he _was_, as a _person_, those thoughts warmed Harry inside and his memory flickered back to that time he'd seen Snape come calling his name in bed. His groin tightened and he shifted, clearing his throat absentmindedly.

Snape looked up. "Something the matter, Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry shook his head. "Did you love my Mum, Professor?" he blurted out.

Snape gave him an indiscernible look. "I did, though not in the way I presume you suggest."

Harry tried to reason that out.

"Do you love Miss Weasley?" Snape countered.

"I," Harry started, then frowned, trying to think of how to explain his feelings. "I do," he admitted, "but not like a girlfriend. I mean, I did, but not anymore. I'm not sure what happened. She just – she wasn't what I needed."

Snape nodded. "I cared a great deal for your mother," he explained. "I did love her. But she was not what I needed, either."

"What did you need, sir?" Harry's eyes flickered down do his hands.

Snape brought his hands up to his lips, steepling his fingers, pausing, as if thinking about how to phrase his reply. "I was – wounded. I came from a place your mother could never understand. I did things that – the choices I made were ones your mother was unable to fathom. No amount of explaining could make her see my point of view. She just couldn't give me what I needed."

Harry understood. "But I do," he said softly, looking Snape in the eye. "I know why you did the things you did. I know – I understand. I – I come from that place, too."

Harry's gaze was locked with Snape's for several heartbeats. The air in the room seemed to thicken. Harry could feel his breathing become shallow.

"Stop it, Potter," Snape finally said in a pleading voice. Harry noticed Snape's knuckles were white; he'd brought them back down to the desk and had clenched his fists.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "What, sir?"

"Stop – this," Snape waved his hand between them. "I thought I made it clear this cannot happen."

Harry's look must have registered the confusion he felt.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Snape rolled his eyes. "You've no – you haven't the slightest idea what you're – just get back to your list," he finished, exasperated.

Harry shook his head imperceptibly as he bent back down to his work, unsure what he'd done to irritate Snape. He figured he was done with his explanation on flying. He thought about other things he liked to do. He'd liked running the DA, back in his fifth year. He supposed that counted as tutoring – or teaching. He began his explanation on why he'd enjoyed helping others learn Defence.

"That's enough for now, Potter," Snape said after quite some time, interrupting Harry's concentration.

Harry straightened up and stretched, letting out a groan. He saw Snape's eyes roam appreciatively over his figure. He smirked.

"Leave your work with me," Snape held out his hand for Harry's parchment. Harry handed it over. "You're free to go," Snape dismissed him.

Harry lingered in front of Snape's desk. "Erm, all right, sir." He backed up a step.

Snape's face displayed a torn expression. Over what, Harry wasn't sure. Finally, Harry turned and walked to the office door. His hand was on the knob when he heard Snape's voice right behind him.

"Harry," Snape's low tone made Harry shiver.

Harry turned around and found himself face-to-face with Snape. He doubted he'd ever be as tall as Snape was, but he was still growing, so Snape no longer towered over him. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the desire glittering in Snape's eyes. His eyes darted down to Snape's mouth and then back up to the dark eyes. Harry only hesitated a moment before he leaned up and brushed a kiss across Snape's lips.

Snape growled deep in his throat and reached around Harry's back, crushing them together. His lips captured Harry's and then they were moving against each other, a tangle of lips, teeth, and tongue. Harry began clawing at Snape's robes and he felt himself pushed against the door. Suddenly, Snape backed away.

"Go," he breathed heavily. "I cannot – we – this – go," Snape wiped his mouth.

Harry's face fell and he felt bereft. His pants were uncomfortably tight and he was disappointed that Snape was refusing to alleviate that problem. Part of him was sure that if he pressed the issue, he could win Snape over. The other part of him – the decidedly smaller part – remembered he had promised Snape he would wait until after NEWTs. He wondered if either one of them was going to be able to withstand the torture if the detentions continued.

He finally sighed, resigned, and left Snape's office without a word.

* * *

"I think I'm finished, sir," Harry looked up at Snape. It was Friday evening and Harry had spent the past two hours writing his list of things he enjoyed and why. It was his first detention since Monday; Snape had cancelled the others – presumably because of the kiss. But he had relented for some reason on Friday and instructed Harry to come to his office at seven.

"Very well," Snape held out his hand for Harry to give him the parchment.

Harry handed it over and watched as Snape skimmed his work.

"Now list everything you consider yourself to be skilled at," Snape directed him, still reading Harry's responses.

"All right," Harry began listing everything he thought he was good at. Flying, of course, was first on the list. "Do I need any sort of explanations, sir?"

"Hm?" Snape looked up at Harry. "No, just list them." And he looked back down at Harry's papers.

Flying, yes. Harry stared at the word and tried to think of other things he was good at. Defence Against the Dark Arts; he'd always been pretty good at that. He'd been able to produce a Patronus since his third year. What else? Defence was the only subject he'd managed an 'O' in. He added Defence to his list.

He was rubbish at chess, or anything that involved logic. He couldn't play any musical instruments and couldn't carry a tune. He wasn't particularly artistic, although he'd done well enough on his Herbology sketches. He wondered if Quidditch counted as something separate from flying. He decided to write it down.

_Flying. Defence Against the Dark Arts. Quidditch._

Harry was depressed. He'd never felt so painfully mediocre. He couldn't even speak Parsletongue anymore. What else was he good at?

_Surviving…Dark Lord…attacks…_he wrote down in jest. He figured that would probably piss Snape off. He smirked. _Vanquishing…Dark Lords…_he wrote on the next line. This was fun.

_Wandering corridors after hours without getting caught._

_Becoming an Animagus._

_Ruining Potions._

_Breaking into Gringotts._

_Riding dragons._

_Retrieving the sword of Gryffindor._

_Killing basilisks._

_Fulfilling prophecies._

_Irritating Draco Malfoy._

_Conquering death._

"Amusing, Potter," Snape's voice from over his shoulder made him jump. He streaked a mark across his parchment.

"Sorry, sir," Harry started to crumple his parchment. Snape stopped him by placing a hand over his. Harry flushed and his heart sped up, feeling Snape close behind him and Snape's warm hand on his.

"You are missing a few strengths," Snape said softly, releasing Harry's hand and standing back up. "Loyalty," he moved around so he was in front of Harry, and he leaned against the front of his desk, "bravery," he ticked the list off on his fingers. "Courteous, funny, persistent," Snape continued.

"But those aren't things I'm good at," Harry argued. "Those are just personality traits."

"Those are things you are good at being," Snape countered. "They matter when you are choosing a career."

"A career?" Harry was nonplussed.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Honestly, how you defeated the Dark Lord, when you can't even – never mind. Why else did you think I was having you complete these two assignments?"

"I wasn't really sure," Harry admitted. "I just did what you asked."

"If you don't want to be an Auror anymore," Snape folded his arms across his chest, "you have to combine your interests with your talents to find something to pursue."

Harry nodded. That made sense. He felt a sense of despair overcome him. "But what is there?" he cried. "You saw my lists. What am I supposed to do with that? I'm – I'm so average."

"In truth," Snape replied calmly, "you did leave off many areas of strength. I saw your OWL scores. You managed 'E's in most of your subjects. Your Transfiguration skills alone are impressive enough to warrant an apprenticeship."

"But 'E's aren't really all that great," Harry argued. "If they were, you'd take them into your NEWT classes."

That seemed to give Snape pause. "My expectations are unusually high," he finally said. "But that does not mean you do not show skill in your 'E' subjects. Your achievement in those areas should be taken into consideration when choosing a career."

"But I'm not even sure what else there is to do. I just remember that when we were looking at the brochures back in fifth year, nothing else seemed interesting," Harry sulked.

"Perhaps that is because you already had your mind made up about being an Auror," Snape suggested. "If you were to look through them again, you may find your interest in certain careers has changed."

That made sense to Harry. "You're probably right," he conceded. Snape raised an eyebrow at that pronouncement. "Where can I get them?"

"I have copies," Snape stood up and walked around behind his desk, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a handful of pamphlets. He came back around and handed them to Harry. "Take your time," he encouraged. "I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have."

"You will?" Harry was surprised.

Snape gave him a look that reeked of incredulity.

"I mean," Harry stuttered, "thank you."

"Now go," Snape waved him out of the office.

Harry stood up, brochures in hand, and walked to the door. Snape hadn't followed him this time. "Erm, sir," he turned around to address Snape. "Do you think it would be all right if I came back down later as – I mean, I've missed being around you like it was when – would you let me in if I came back as the cat?"

Snape's eyes widened for a moment, but then the surprised look was gone. "Do you have any brain cells at all, Potter?" Snape's voice was full of complete and total astonishment.

"Oh, I – sorry – never mind," he shook his head and turned back around to open the door.

He heard Snape sigh. "I'm out of salmon," Snape sounded defeated. "So if you're hungry, you'll have to make do with tuna."

Harry turned back around to face Snape and grinned stupidly.

"Don't get caught, Potter," Snape straightened up and smoothed down his robes. "I'm disinclined to share my – pets," he finished with a strange tone Harry couldn't identify. "Now go," Snape jerked his chin at the door.

Harry felt excited and inexplicably flushed as he left Snape's office and went back up to the Tower, eagerly awaiting his return to Snape's company as Cat.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: I think you'll like this one! Enjoy!_

* * *

Harry sat nervously on the edge of his bed. He wasn't sure how much time to give Snape before he went back down as the cat. He'd been up in the Tower for ten minutes now. He glanced down at his watch. Maybe he should wait another five minutes. He only had an hour before curfew, though, so he didn't want to waste time up in his dorm. He compromised on waiting two more minutes, then changed into the cat and headed out to the dungeons.

Once he got to Snape's office door, he sat down and stared up at it. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't knock. He'd tried pawing at the door before, but it hadn't done any good, had it? He supposed he may as well try that, since he had no other ideas. He'd only given the door three taps when it opened and he looked up to see Snape's face staring down at him.

"Surely you must know that I can set my wards to notify me if someone is standing outside my door?" Snape said in disbelief as he stepped back and let Harry in.

Harry followed Snape into his private quarters and nearly ran into the man's legs when he stopped short and turned around.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, peering down at Harry over folded arms. He snorted, "You're eighteen. Of course you are." He turned back around and went into the kitchen to get a plate for Harry. When he set it down, Harry noticed it was the same one he'd been given before. Harry got an odd feeling that he had his "own" plate. It was tuna.

"Mrowr," Harry said, flicking his tail at Snape as the plate was set down on the sofa cushion.

"I told you I was out of salmon," Snape reminded him. "Beggars can't be choosers." Snape stared at Harry as he ate, making him uncomfortable. Once Harry was done, Snape waved his hand and the plate vanished, clinking as it reappeared in the sink. Snape waved his hand again and the soft classical music he was so fond of started up. He traced his lips with his fingers, staring at Harry with a contemplating look. Harry was about to jump down off the couch and ask to leave when Snape let out a small huff and a smirk graced his face. "Are you going to sit over there the whole night or are you going to come over here?" Snape patted his lap. Harry paused, unsure of what he should do. He thought it was a little strange, knowing that Snape knew he was the cat but still wanted him to curl up on his lap. "I was under the impression you liked how we interacted while you were Cat?" Snape arched his brow. Harry conceded that it was true, so he took the few steps over to Snape and crawled into his lap.

Snape's hands immediately took to rubbing Harry's head and back and he began purring and snuggled deeply into Snape's warmth. He felt odd, though this time it wasn't at the fact that Snape was making him purr, but that Snape was knowingly caressing Harry and didn't seem at all disturbed by that, even though he'd made it clear that a physical relationship between them was something that could not happen – yet, at least. After a few minutes of silent stroking, listening to the fire, Snape summoned the periodical he often read and a glass of wine. Snape took a sip of wine and set down the glass, pausing before he opened the magazine.

Harry heard the smile in Snape's voice when he spoke. "I think I may like you better as a cat."

Harry growled, but his annoyance was tempered by Snape's soft chuckle and the hand that ruffled his fur.

Harry dozed on and off while Snape read, and he lost track of time and was startled by Snape's voice once he finally closed the magazine and spoke. "It is nearly curfew."

Harry sat up in Snape's lap and stretched languorously. "Rrrrrowrrrrrr," he let out slowly.

"Come on," Snape shooed Harry off his lap. "Time for you to go."

Harry, who had been forced to the floor, hopped back up on the couch. He saw no reason to go back to his dorm. It was holidays and no one would miss him if he stayed the night here with Snape. He decided he quite liked the idea of staying the night here in Snape's rooms.

Snape had gone over to the door that led into his study. "Cat," he turned around, giving an exasperated look at Harry, who sat unmoving on the sofa, "Harry, you have to go back to your dorm now."

Harry shook his head back and forth once, then proceeded to lick his paws.

"Out!" Snape came back to the couch and picked Harry up.

"Rowr!" Harry cried and twisted until Snape let go. Harry dropped to the floor and then jumped back up on the sofa.

"You can_not_ stay here," Snape refused. "You are going back to your dorm this instant." He crossed his arms over his chest and stamped his foot, looking quite like a petulant child.

"Mrowr," Harry mewed softly. He came down off the couch and wound himself around Snape's ankles, rubbing his face and whiskers along Snape's boots. "Mrowrrrrr," he pleaded.

"I have exams to grade," Snape argued, but Harry could sense he was wavering.

Harry jumped up onto the armchair and sat down, resting his chin on the arm rest, trying his best to look pitiful and bordering on begging.

Snape put one hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Merlin help me," he muttered, "you are going to be the death of…" he looked right at Harry and pointed his finger in a scolding manner. "You will keep me company while I mark the exams and you will NOT jump all over the parchments or streak ink or bat at my quill. And since when I am finished it will be well past curfew, you will sleep on the couch or directly in front of the fire. You will NOT transform back into your human form, except to use the loo." Snape picked Harry up and held him at eye level. "If you piss on my floor, no one will ever find your body."

Harry was sure cats couldn't snicker, but he tried to anyway.

"I cannot believe I am agreeing to this," Snape shook his head in disbelief as he set Harry down on the floor. He walked through the door to the office and sat down at his desk. Harry jumped up onto the corner of the desk and sat perfectly still, save for his tail twitching and the occasional flick of his ears. He noticed Snape was marking third year exams.

"Mrowr?" Harry vocalized what he hoped would be an obvious question as to the progress of Harry's class's exams.

"Yours have been marked," Snape told him, not looking up from the parchment in front of him. "No, I will not tell you what you earned. You will find out by owl next week just like the rest of your classmates."

Harry sniffed at that, but didn't dare show his displeasure any other way, for fear of being forced out of the rooms. He finally lay down on the corner of the desk and watched Snape as he set to marking the exams. It was silent, except for the scratching of the quill and the music that wafted in from the private rooms. Harry suspected that after a while, Snape had forgotten he was even there. He was able to watch Snape openly. He noticed that Snape was quite vocal while grading, making grunts and sighs and groans at the various things the students had written. Sometimes, he would even speak out loud at what he saw. That didn't surprise Harry, though, given how much Snape had talked to the cat when they'd been alone. Harry suspected that even when there was no one and nothing else around, Snape talked to himself.

He studied Snape. Snape's hair was very fine, which was why it gave the appearance of being greasy from far away. But up close, Harry could see that it was quite clean, and looked soft. At one point, Snape reached up and hooked the strands behind one ear, keeping it out of his face. It was such a human, ordinary gesture that Harry would have smiled, had he been himself.

Snape's eyes were dark. From where he was, Harry could only determine that they were black. He'd been closer the few times they'd kissed, but figuring out exact color hadn't been at the top of his to-do list at those moments.

Snape's skin didn't seem to have the sickly, yellow pallor any more, the sallowness having seemingly disappeared with the end of Voldemort. The skin was quite clean; not oily or dry, but astonishingly normal. Harry could see the lines around Snape's eyes and mouth when he squinted or smiled as he came across various things in the exams.

Snape had thin lips. They were pressed together in concentration. Sometimes, one finger would come up and press against them. Every once in a while, Snape's tongue would dart out to moisten them.

Harry thought that Snape's physicality suited his personality perfectly. At a distance, Snape looked harsh, even ugly, with sharp angles to his jaw and nose, and his robes billowing about, leaving the shape of his body a mystery. That was the same as the words he said: harsh, ugly, and sharp. But beneath that, when he was alone, he was softer. He listened to classical music. He looked out for people he cared about. He liked cats. He liked Harry. His physical features were like that, too. Up close, it wasn't so severe. Harry could see the softness curving around his jaw, the roundness in the nose, and without his robes on, his lithe body served as evidence to a regimen demonstrating that the man cared very much what he looked like.

Harry was confused. He'd had seven years of nothing but vitriol from this man. He'd gone out of his way to make sure Harry thought he was hated. Now, in just a few short months, Harry had learned that it was a cover for the strong feelings Snape had toward Harry. That was combined with what Harry had learned about Snape from the memories the man gave him during the final battle. Harry had already developed a healthy respect and appreciation for the man from that information alone. Now those feelings were being joined by others; others that Harry wasn't sure he could identify. He'd kissed Snape. He'd kissed him twice, and it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. But he couldn't get over that he'd had those same feelings with Ginny a year and a half ago. Why was he feeling this for Snape? He knew he needed Snape in his life because the man understood him in a way no one else could. But could there really be something romantic between them? Was Harry confusing his feelings of respect and gratitude for something else since he knew how Snape felt about him? Harry felt out of his depth. All he knew was that he felt cared for by Snape. Snape had protected him his entire time at Hogwarts. Snape had sacrificed his life to make sure Harry completed his mission. Snape had forgiven Harry for being an unregistered Animagus. Snape had cared enough about Harry to help him find a new career path. Harry liked spending time with Snape. He liked a lot of things about Snape. He sighed. He had no clue what he was doing.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Snape moving his chair away from the desk.

"I'm finished," he announced to Harry, and he went back into his private rooms. "Do you need to use the loo before you retire?"

"Mmmmrowr," Harry admitted.

"Through my bedroom," Snape pointed across the room. "The door on the left."

Harry walked through the bedroom and went into the bathroom, nudging the door closed with his nose. Once he was sure it had clicked shut, he transformed back into himself. He performed a wandless teeth-cleaning charm, and then relieved himself on the toilet. He splashed some water on his face after he washed his hands, and then turned the doorknob just enough to be able to get out as the cat, which he transformed into immediately and came back out into the sitting area.

Snape was waiting for him with a stern look on his face. "You will stay here," he commanded. "You will sleep either on the sofa or on the floor in front of the fire." He waved his wand and a plush blanket appeared in front of the hearth. "I will cast a containment charm on the fire so you do not get chilled."

Harry hopped up on the sofa and tried to look as somber as he could, showing Snape he understood the directions.

Snape cast the charm on the fire and then extinguished all the other lights in the flat. In the flames' shadows dancing on his face, Harry thought he saw Snape stare at him with a conflicted look. But then it was gone and Snape gave him a curt nod.

"Good night," Snape paused, "Harry." And with that, Snape went into his bedroom and Harry heard the door lock behind him.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure exactly what woke him up, but he stretched in the darkness and sat up on the sofa, staring at the fire, which was just as merry as it had been when he fell asleep – he glanced up at the clock – four hours ago. Suddenly, he heard a muffled shout from behind Snape's bedroom door. Harry got down from the sofa and walked over to the door, trying to hear what was going on on the other side. It was silent for a few moments, and Harry thought that he might have imagined the noise he heard, when a cry wailed through the air. Harry didn't know what to do. Was Snape in trouble? Should he go get help? He'd probably trip the wards. Plus, he'd have to explain to whomever he found how and why he'd been in Snape's quarters at three in the morning. Snape let out another strangled shout.

_Well shit_, Harry thought. Snape was going to kill him, but he couldn't just let the man scream the rest of the night. Harry transformed back into himself and tried the knob on the door, but it was locked, just as Harry had feared when he'd heard the click earlier in the evening. He prayed that a simple Alohamora would suffice. At the wave of his wand, the lock slid out of place and Harry pushed the door open gently.

In the dark, he could see Snape thrashing around in the bed, his legs and arms tangled up in the sheets. He figured the man was having a nightmare, but he didn't know what to do about it.

"Erm, Snape," he whispered gently. It had no effect on the wildly twisting form. Harry sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. He was going to have to wake Snape up. Watch Snape be a wizard who slept with his wand under his pillow. Harry was certain he was going to end up in the hospital wing after this.

He'd only worn jeans and a t-shirt down, but he still had his shoes on. He toed them off, assuming Snape would be even angrier if he knew Harry'd climbed onto the bed in his trainers. He gingerly made his way over to the side of the bed that was vacant (sort of, Snape was rolling all around) and crawled on his hands and knees onto the mattress.

"Snape," he tried again softly. It didn't help in the slightest. Harry put a hand on Snape's arm, but it was thrown off as Snape yelled again and turned toward Harry. Harry moved closer to Snape and positioned himself so that he could kneel over Snape and grab him by the shoulders. Once Snape rolled back over on his back, Harry pounced, pinning Snape's upper body to the bed by clamping his hands just below the shoulders.

"Snape!" Harry said loudly. "You're dreaming! Wake up!" He shook Snape gently. "Snape, it's all right," he said again, leaning a bit closer, "it's just a dream."

Suddenly, Snape's eyes flew open and he stared at Harry, unseeing, still caught in whatever nightmare he'd been having.

"Everything's okay," he repeated, starting to let up on the pressure. "You're fine."

Snape's eyes cleared and he focused on Harry's face.

Harry, seeing that Snape had finally awoken, removed his hands from Snape's arms and placed his hands on either side of Snape, preparing to push himself up and receive a completely thorough tirade.

He was completely taken by surprise when Snape's arms reached up and pulled him back down so Harry was lying halfway on top of Snape. Snape leaned up slightly and caught Harry's mouth and began searching for entry with his tongue. Harry let out a startled, _Oh_, and that was all Snape needed to surge inside and kiss Harry so thoroughly he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. One of Snape's arms snaked around Harry, coming to rest at the small of his back, gripping him tightly. The other wound itself into Harry's hair and gently guided his head as they kissed.

It wasn't long before Snape removed Harry's glasses, putting them on the nightstand next to the bed. He pushed Harry off of him and crawled on top of Harry, barely breaking their kiss. Only now, Snape's hands traveled up under Harry's shirt, gentling feathered caresses up and down his chest and sides. At one point, his fingers lingered on Harry's nipple, causing the young man to gasp and tear his mouth away from Snape's. He heard Snape whisper something near his ear and suddenly felt a cool blast of air along his now naked body. He didn't have time to be self-conscious about his first time being naked in front of another man that wasn't part of a Quidditch shower. The sensations from Snape's hands and mouth were overwhelming and Harry heard himself moaning and panting as he clutched at Snape's back.

Soon, Snape had covered Harry's body completely with his own, and Harry's mind registered the fact that Snape, too, was naked. He felt a hardness pressed into his hip from above and bucked off the bed when Snape's hips rocked into his and created friction on his painfully aroused cock. He threw his head back against the pillow and Snape's mouth moved down to trail kisses along his neck. Snape took one hand and lifted Harry's knee so that Snape was cradled on one side by Harry's bent leg. Snape's face came back up to Harry's and their mouths met once again. Snape ground his hips against Harry's and Harry couldn't control the sounds coming out of his mouth.

"God, Snape, please," he whispered between kisses.

"Harry," Snape's tongue ghosted over Harry's ear. "Call me Severus." His mouth came back to Harry's.

Soon, Harry's legs were both wrapped around Severus's back and Harry's hands were practically clawing at Severus's back. He could feel the heat pooling in his belly and his balls tightening. He came with a cry, Severus's name on his lips. He exploded so forcefully he was sure he would pass out. He felt Severus's answering pulse coating their stomachs. Harry's name had been called when Severus climaxed, and now both men were panting heavily, Severus's forehead resting on Harry's chest.

Severus whispered something else and Harry felt the stickiness disappear. Severus climbed off of him and somehow managed to get both of them under the covers. He pushed Harry until Harry was on his side, facing away from Severus. Harry felt Severus pull their bodies together, and Severus slung an arm around Harry's waist, finding Harry's hand and intertwining their fingers. He felt Severus nuzzle his forehead into Harry's upper back and plant a soft kiss on his shoulder blade.

Harry was trying to sort out what had happened and how he felt about it, but he was so tired and so boneless that he wasn't making much headway. The last thing he thought he heard as he drifted off to sleep was a whisper into his neck.

"…love you, Harry…"

* * *

Harry came awake in slow stages. He recognized that he was warm. He was in a very comfortable bed. He'd slept better than he'd done in ages. He felt something fluttering his hair. He opened one eye. His first thought was confusion, as he saw his arm draped across a pale column of flesh. Then, the events from the previous night came flooding back to him and he smiled as he remembered the passion he'd shared with Snape – no, he'd been told to use 'Severus'. His smile widened as he realized the fluttering was Severus's breathing into his hair. He felt Severus's arm around his back and felt their legs tangled together. He felt his half-formed morning erection pressing into Severus's thigh, and was able to glance down far enough to see that Severus was in a similar predicament, the sheet tenting ever-so-slightly at his groin. He let his hand slide down under the sheet until he could wrap his hand around Severus's cock and he began to stroke it lightly.

Severus groaned beneath Harry. "Harry," he let out in a slow, drawn-out sigh.

Harry turned his head just enough to press his lips to Severus's chest and give him a tender kiss. Instantly, Harry felt Severus's entire body freeze and a sharp intake of air sounded above his head. Severus scrambled ungracefully out from under Harry and grabbed the sheet as he stumbled out of bed.

"I had – no – it was – I had a dream – it was – I thought," the hand that wasn't holding the sheet in front of his naked body knotted in his hair. "Oh God, what have I done?"

Harry's brow furrowed. Severus had thought last night was a dream? _That would explain a lot_, Harry thought. He sat up, gathering the rest of the covers at his waist. "We didn't have sex," he pointed out, feeling less embarrassed than he thought he would when he first thought the sentence in his head.

Severus's eyes snapped over to lock with Harry's at this pronouncement, relief plainly evident.

"How did this happen? What part of it was real?" Severus pleaded.

"I was on the couch – as a cat, like I promised," Harry began in defense. "Your shouting woke me up. You were having a nightmare. I wasn't sure what to do, so I turned back into myself and unlocked the door. I tried to wake you up just by calling your name, but that didn't work. I climbed onto the bed and shook you until you woke up. And then," Harry trailed off, suddenly feeling a blush rise in his cheeks, the reality of what had happened hitting him. He had made out with Severus Snape. Naked. In a bed. And they had both come. He was pretty sure that he didn't need Hermione to confirm that he was at least bisexual, but possibly completely gay.

"I attacked you," Severus finished hoarsely, paling.

"No!" Harry protested. "It wasn't like that! I – I liked it. It was – it was good."

"I can't believe this – how could I – you should have never been here," he finally ground out.

"But I'm glad I was," Harry replied softly.

"Why?" Severus breathed, as if there could be no possible explanation.

"Well," Harry looked at his lap, "I stopped your nightmare, for one." He paused. "And I got to be with you. Like that. I felt," he stopped short.

He heard Severus take a sharp breath and he looked up. The look on Severus's face was unadulterated terror and hope.

"I felt loved," Harry finished, not bringing up what he thought he'd heard Severus say before they both fell asleep.

Severus breathed out a long gust of air and sat down on the side of the bed, putting his head in both hands.

"Harry, this is wrong; this cannot happen. I have abused my position. I have to – Minerva will," he shook his head.

"No!" Harry grabbed Severus's arm, forcing the man to face him. "You're not telling anyone what happened. It's my fault for staying here last night and my fault for coming into your room. You thought you were dreaming. I should have stopped you, but I let it happen. I'm of age. I'm an adult. If I hadn't been running around the countryside last year, I'd already be out of school."

"But you," Severus tried to cut in, looking pained.

"No, _you_," Harry snapped back at him. "I know how you feel about me, okay? You can't hide it from me anymore! And I know how I feel about you! And I don't care if nothing else happens for the rest of the year. I know what I feel and I know it won't go away!" And suddenly, the truth of Harry's words sank into his heart. He finally understood what Hermione had meant when they'd had their talk about him being with people and finding someone. "I need you," he pleaded. "I care about you."

"You shouldn't," Severus said harshly, looking away from Harry.

"Why, because you made mistakes?" Harry tugged on Severus's arm gently. "Am I not allowed to forgive you? If people held every mistake I ever made against me, I'd be pretty lonely."

"I am not – suited – for relationships," Severus argued feebly.

"I'm probably pants at it, too," Harry smiled. "We can be crappy at it together."

"Nothing like this can happen again, you understand," Severus finally turned back around to look at Harry, a look of hope so startling it seemed almost painful. "Until after your NEWTs."

"Then I won't ask to spend the night again," Harry promised. "And I'll try to avoid you during the days, too. I mean, I probably won't even see you much anyway, since I doubt I'll still be in your Potions class."

A guilty look grew on Severus's face. "You will be," he gave in. "You managed an 'Outstanding'."

Harry's smile was blinding. He shot up to his knees and lunged forward to hug Severus, and he ended up pulling both of them down to the bed. Severus was unable to hold back his chuckle, and he pulled his face up to look at Harry, whose fingers had started trailing a path down his cheek and neck.

Severus growled with frustration. "I thought I made it clear we had to stop."

"But I don't want to," pouted Harry, leaning up and nipping at Severus's jaw. "All I have left here is today. I'm going to the Burrow tomorrow." He noticed Severus's eyes had closed and his cheeks were flushed. "No one will ever know. And I promise that for the rest of the school year I'll be good." He whispered the last bit in Severus's ear, then bit the earlobe lightly, eliciting a deep moan from Severus.

Severus maneuvered them so he was completely on top of Harry, although they had both sheets between them. Severus reached a hand between them and grazed his finger over Harry's nipple, causing the young man to twist and moan. Severus captured Harry's mouth in his for a brief kiss, and then his mouth was at Harry's ear.

"Then if I only have today," his velvet voice made Harry shiver, "I may not let you out of my sight."

Harry saw Severus's hand wave beside him and instantly the sheets were gone. He melted beneath the heat and weight of Severus's body, lost in the kisses they were sharing.

"And this time," Harry's words were breathy, "You know you're awake."

Severus let out a rumble of laughter as his tongue traced the shell of Harry's ear. "You'd best be careful what you wish for," he nipped at the spot just below Harry's earlobe, and Harry let out a gasp. "Reality is going to be so much more than dreams."

And with that, Severus brought his mouth back to Harry's and they began to take advantage of Harry's last day of the holidays in the castle.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than usual. I was up in Tallahassee for a thing and then I've been off site all week working with revision teams. I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

"Harry!" Molly Weasley was coming at Harry before he'd even made it to the front door of the Burrow. "How have you been? We've been waiting for you!"

"Hiya, Harry," George clapped Harry on the shoulder once he was inside, making his way towards the kitchen – being steered there by Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry!" Ron's face lit up as he saw Harry come into the kitchen. Ron was sitting at the table, a large sandwich in his hand, mouth full of food.

"Hey, George," Harry looked over his shoulder. "Ron," Harry's grin got even wider as he stifled a laugh at Ron's face, lettuce and mayonnaise dripping onto his chin.

"Sit down, sit down!" Mrs. Weasley ushered Harry into a seat. "What would you like for lunch, dear?"

Harry wasn't really hungry, as he'd had a rather large and late breakfast, but he knew better than to refuse food from Mrs. Weasley, who had always made it her mission to make up for Harry's malnutrition during his time with the Dursleys. "A sandwich like Ron's would be great, thanks."

"Chips?" she asked as she bustled around for a plate.

"No, thanks," he declined.

He sat down next to Ron and picked up his sandwich that appeared on the plate in front of him.

"How's it been at Hogwarts?" Ron asked as soon as Harry had taken his first bite.

Harry nearly choked as he tried to swallow before he'd chewed thoroughly. "Oh, you know," he shrugged, "boring. Studied a lot. Did some flying. Slept quite a bit."

"Sounds like my holiday," Ron nodded. "Except for the studying," he smirked.

"You know Hermione is going to have your head if you haven't been keeping up with our homework and reading," Harry raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"As will your mother," warned Mrs. Weasley, who had come back into the kitchen.

Ron grimaced. "Wanna go up to my room?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, sure," Harry put down his half-eaten sandwich, grateful for an excuse to stop eating.

The boys pushed back from the table and headed upstairs, Mrs. Weasley's voice trailing behind them. "Now might be a good time to work on some of those assignments!"

Harry saw Ron shake his head and was fairly sure he'd rolled his eyes. Once the boys were safely in Ron's room, the door was shut and they both settled down; Harry on the stool by the nightstand and Ron on the bed.

"So," Ron said with a conspiratorial tone, "have you had to serve the detentions? You know? With Snape?"

Harry tried to control the blush he felt rising in his cheeks and tried not to let his eyes widen. "Well, uh, yeah, I have," he admitted. He almost told Ron that it had only actually been twice, but then he figured Ron would want to know why it was only twice, and then Harry would have to explain his reasoning for it, which was the kiss at the end of the first holiday detention. And he did NOT want to do that.

"Rotten luck, mate," Ron shook his head in sympathy. "Has he at least let you do some studying?"

"No, actually," Harry started. Ron looked like he was going to interrupt, but Harry continued. "He's actually been really great. He's helping me with deciding on a career."

Ron's eyes widened immediately and his eyebrows shot into his hairline.

_Shite_, Harry thought. He'd not told Ron anything about his change of heart regarding the Auror program. Ron was going to – well, Harry wasn't sure what he'd do, but it probably wouldn't be pleasant.

"What?!" Ron's voice was barely below a screech. "What do you mean, 'deciding on a career'? You're going into the Auror program with me. Assuming we get to stay in Snape's class, that is," he tagged on.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and his hands began to fidget in his lap. "Well," he began, "I've been giving it some thought, and – I'm just not sure being an Auror is what I want anymore."

Ron, who had been leaning back on his hands sat up and rest his elbows on his knees. "What d'you mean it's not what you want? It's all we've talked about since fifth year!"

"I know," Harry agreed quietly. "It's just – since everything's calmed down I'm not sure," he paused, trying to figure out how to phrase his struggle. "I'm not sure I want to chase bad wizards anymore."

Surprisingly, Ron stayed quiet, sensing Harry had more to say.

Harry glanced up and met Ron's eyes, which were both questioning and concerned. "You know, I've spent my whole life fighting against Voldemort. I've spent my whole life saving other people and keeping the world safe. It's exhausting. I'm not sure I want to do it for the rest of my life."

Ron nodded slightly. "I think I understand, mate," he said seriously. "I guess I'd want a break from it, too."

Harry looked up at Ron sharply, surprise in his eyes. "A break?"

"Yeah," Ron smiled. "You know, take some time off and live a little. Go on holiday. See the world. Get some sleep." He laughed.

Harry had never considered that.

"I mean, no one says you have to go into something right out of Hogwarts. Loads of people take time off, especially if it is related to the field they're interested in. I mean, Bill took off a whole year to do lots of traveling, so he could learn about some of the foreign wizards he'd be dealing with as a curse breaker. Charlie took off nearly that long to tour around the world visiting all the dragon facilities before he decided which program he wanted to join."

"Are you going to take a break?" Harry asked him.

"Not really sure," he mused. "Might be nice to travel a bit, but that'll take…" he trailed off.

Harry looked back down at his lap. He knew what Ron had been about to say. _That'll take money._ Ron didn't have money.

"But what did Bill and Charlie do, then?" Harry wondered.

"They worked odd jobs wherever they went. Made enough to pay for what they needed," Ron explained.

"Well, you could do that," Harry pointed out.

Ron blushed. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled something Harry couldn't understand.

"What was that?" Harry asked, leaning closer to Ron.

"I – I thought maybe I'd take Hermione with me, you know, to see places together," he repeated, obviously embarrassed.

"I think that's really thoughtful, Ron," Harry told him, "but do you honestly think Hermione's the kind of girl who would want to take any time off from her education to travel? Or do anything that didn't involve, well, education?"

"If it had to do with her career, she might," Ron reasoned.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry agreed. "Have you mentioned anything about it to her?"

Ron shook his head, his cheeks still red.

"Maybe she'll be up for a short break, like a few weeks. And maybe she'll have some ideas about how to – finance," Harry was careful with the word he chose, "the trip."

Ron's face brightened. "That's a good idea, mate, thanks!"

Harry shook his head and chuckled, "Anytime." Harry thought of something, "By the way, when is Hermione getting here?"

"Well, Christmas isn't until Friday, and she's spending it in Australia with her parents, so she won't be here until the Monday after, on the twenty-eighth."

"Australia," Harry smirked. "Sounds like fun."

"Yeah," Ron smiled back, "apparently, they really liked it there, even though they didn't remember anything about her or anything."

"Well, I'm glad they were happy there," Harry said. "Hey," he nodded at Ron, "thanks for the idea about the break. That might be helpful."

"Sure thing. D'you want to bring up your things and get sorted and then go outside and do some flying?" Ron stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers.

"Yeah, sounds brilliant," Harry stood as well, smiling as he turned to open the door.

* * *

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" Ron's face was inches from Harry's as he shook Harry awake Christmas morning.

"Mrfphl," Harry grumbled and rolled over, pulling the covers over his head on his camp bed.

"Come on! Bet we've got loads of presents!" Ron pulled the covers away from Harry's head, but he used a bit too much force and they ripped off of Harry completely, leaving his body exposed.

"Oi!" Harry yelped. "It's cold!"

"Get up and get dressed then, lazy," Ron pulled Harry's pillow out from under his head and whacked him in the face with it. "Everyone's coming over today."

Harry groaned and finally pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes before he donned his glasses. "Accio shirt," Harry mumbled, and a grey t-shirt flew into his hands.

"Woah!" Ron turned to stare at him, his own shirt only up over his arms. "Was that wandless?"

"Oh," Harry stammered, "yeah, I guess."

"Wicked!" Ron smiled hugely. "How long've you been able to do that?"

"Erm," Harry yanked his shirt down over his head, "not sure. Just sort of happened one day."

"Can't wait for Hermione to hear about that," Ron's voice was slightly muffled as he spoke while pulling his own shirt over his head.

"Is that," Harry stumbled over his words, not wanting to get Ron in a bad mood, "I mean, how many people can do that?"

"Oh, I dunno," Ron shrugged, "lots, probably, but it's something you really have to work at. Some wizards can never do it. You've got to have a lot of raw power."

"Huh," Harry mused. He didn't tell Ron that he'd been doing wandless magic since before he'd gone to Hogwarts.

After a short while, both boys made it downstairs and entered the kitchen, which was filled with an amazing assortment of breakfast foods.

"This is like Christmas breakfast at Hogwarts!" Harry exclaimed.

Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly at him, "Oh, it's nothing like all that," she waved her hand through the air dismissively. "Sit! Eat!"

"Not too much," George said in a stage whisper, "you've got to save room for dinner. No skiving off that!"

Mrs. Weasley cuffed George lightly on the back of the head. "You eat as much or as little as you like, dear," she continued to smile as Harry took his seat, loading his plate with bacon, eggs, and other delightful foods.

"Morning, Harry," Ginny came down the stairs and sat across from Harry at the table.

"Morning, Gin," he smiled at her over the piles of food.

Mrs. Weasley gave a measured look between the two of them, but didn't say anything before she, herself sat down and began to eat.

* * *

"Presents!" Mr. Weasley called, loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. They'd all spent the day getting themselves and the house ready for the family that would be arriving. Now that everyone was present, they'd be opening their gifts in front of the tree, have some photos taken, and then enjoy their Christmas feast.

Everyone filed into the front room. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur – who was quite pregnant, much to the delight of Mrs. Weasley, Charlie and a young man named Avin, Percy and his girlfriend Audrey, George and Angelina, Ron, Ginny, and of course, Harry. Apparently, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George had all either spent Christmas Eve with their significant other's family or were going there later today.

They all began the present-opening frenzy, and soon the floor was piled high with strewn wrapping paper, and piles of gifts were accumulating next to each person or couple.

Harry had received all sorts of gifts. From Ron he'd gotten a subscription to Quidditch Monthly.

"You do realize, Ron," Harry had leaned over to whisper in his ear, "that you've basically gotten me twelve books for Christmas. Hermione will be so pleased!"

Ron had blanched at that and even muttered an "I'm sorry," before Harry had elbowed him and laughed.

Harry and Ron had both gotten a book (large, and heavy) of course, from Hermione. _A Summary of World Wizarding Cultures_, was the title. Apparently, her time in Australia had given her a taste for exploring other traditions and peoples.

He'd gotten his customary jumper from Mrs. Weasley – this year's was a deep, Gryffindor red with a brown broom in the center. He'd been given a variety of items from George's shop, many of which made him laugh and others that made him wary of eating or trying them. There were various other trinkets he'd gotten from the other members of the Weasley family and his other friends. (He'd actually snorted at Neville's _The Traveler's Guide to the Flora and Fauna of the Water Lochs of Central Europe_.)

There were only a few packages left when a pecking at the window was finally heard over the din. It was a handsome, tawny owl with brilliant gold eyes, and there was a parchment attached to its leg. It flew over to Harry, who let it settle on his knew while he detached and unrolled the scroll.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know yeh lost Hedwig this past year and, well, I felt right awful about it for yeh. I know it might be too soon, so yeh won't upset me if you say so, but I thought you might like a new familiar. Happy Christmas!_

_Hagrid_

Harry's eyes started to water as he rolled the parchment back up and stroked the bird's head.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked as he saw Harry's face. Everyone's eyes were on Harry.

He took in a deep breath and blinked the tears away. "Yeah, brilliant. Hagrid's got me a new owl."

"Wow!" Ron reached out to pet the owl, too. "What are you going to name him?"

Harry thought for a minute. "Boleslaw," he finally settled on. "It was the name of one of the real Hedwig's sons."

"Sounds good, mate," Ron nodded sagely, and clapped Harry on the back supportively.

"Why don't we let him out to go with Errol and Pig?" Ginny suggested.

"That sounds lovely," Mrs. Weasley said, and she held out her arm for the owl to land on, and then disappeared out the front door.

Everyone was on their last present, and Harry's lap was empty. Not that he minded; it had been a brilliant Christmas for him.

"Harry, this one's for you," George tossed a small package at Harry, who, being an exceptional Seeker, caught it easily.

"George," Mrs. Weasley reprimanded him as she sat back down, "that could be breakable."

"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley," Harry assured her, and began opening the final gift. It was wrapped in plain, Christmas green paper – nearly perfectly. Inside was a box with a lid that was deep red and shimmered as if it had gold threaded through. It was small, just barely bigger than the palm of Harry's hand. He took off the lid and when he saw what was inside, his heart stopped.

There was a note, lying carefully next to the gift, and Harry picked it up and read it first.

_To Cat, who is missed here, this holiday, Happy Christmas to you._

It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. Harry lifted the object out of the box. It was a miniature black cat, animated, much like the miniature dragons had been during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It meowed in Harry's hand and sat, preening itself. Harry looked closer and could see a collar around its neck with a golden snitch dangling from it.

"…all right? Harry?" Ron's voice seemed to come to him through a fog.

"Wh – what?" Harry finally stammered.

"Are you all right, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Ron's expression was concerned, as was the rest of the family's, who were all looking at him, too.

"What's that you've got there, Harry?" Ginny asked from across the room.

"A – it's a cat," Harry answered.

"What about a cat has you so worked up?" Ron wanted to know.

Harry swallowed. He had to get it together. "Nothing, just – I just didn't expect it, that's all."

"Who's it from?" Charlie asked.

Harry could definitely not answer that question. "No idea," he said, shrugging. "The note doesn't have a name."

"That's odd," Mr. Weasley frowned. "It was definitely meant for you."

"Oh, it's all right," Harry tried to smile brightly, but feared he was failing miserably. He put the cat back in the box, hearing it mewl with displeasure. He wanted everyone to forget about it. But he couldn't forget about it. _Missed_. That was the word Severus had used. He missed Harry. Or at least the cat-Harry. But Harry was pretty sure Severus missed him, the real Harry. Suddenly, instead of his face being drained of all color, it flushed. He could feel the blood rising from his neck up to his ears. His stomach coiled and he involuntarily thought back to the week before; the Friday before he'd left Hogwarts. The Friday he'd spent several hours in Severus's quarters. Naked. In bed. With Severus. Doing things with Severus that, six months ago, would likely have made him vomit. Now all he could feel was an overwhelmingly tender warmth inside him. Severus missed him. And now that he thought about it, he missed Severus, too. Harry missed talking with him in the evenings, seeing him in the Great Hall, and even teaching Potions class.

Harry almost groaned. He was in so much trouble. He'd gone and fallen in love with Severus Snape. His face brightened. At least Severus felt the same way. Harry had heard Severus say he loved Harry, and Severus had sent him a Christmas present. He didn't know Severus as well as he'd have liked to, but he was fairly sure that Severus sending Christmas presents was not a regular thing. And now he felt badly that he hadn't gotten anything for the man.

"Harry?" Ron shook Harry's shoulder, snapping him out of his trance.

"Mm?" Harry looked over at Ron.

"What is with you?" Ron smiled and shook his head. "Let's go put these away and help clean up, and then we can get a game of Quidditch going."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great." And with a smile, he picked up all his gifts and followed behind Ron, making his way up the stairs to put everything away in his school trunk.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around him as soon as she laid eyes on him. "Oh, how have you been?"

Harry laughed, returning Hermione's hug. "Great," he assured her, "brilliant, even." She released him. "What about you? How was Australia?"

Her whole face lit up.

"Wait!" Ron called out. "Before you get her started…" he took a few steps over to Hermione and wrapped his arm around her shoulder and leaned in, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly. "I've missed you."

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Hermione's face so red. Or her eyes so bright. Or her smile so wide.

"Now," Ron stepped away from Hermione but took her hand, leading her to the stairs. "If we're going to hear about two weeks in Australia, I want to get comfortable."

They'd been upstairs in Ron's room for nearly an hour, listening to Hermione's retelling of her trip with her parents. They asked her questions – and thanked her for their Christmas present. Finally, though, she was finished. The three sat in silence for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat.

"So, I, erm," Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I've got something to tell you both."

Hermione's eyes became concerned, while Ron's grew curious.

"Is this about that cat?" Ron asked.

"Cat? What cat?" Hermione looked between Ron and Harry, then around the room, as if expecting to see a cat.

"No!" Harry said quickly. He didn't want to tell Hermione about the cat. He was too afraid she'd work something out. Either about him being an Animagus or about him and Severus being – well, he supposed they were sort of together, even if they couldn't really be together for a few more months. He certainly hoped that whatever was going on between them counted as "together," with everything they'd done that last day he was at Hogwarts.

Harry had been very nervous to tell Ron about his sexual preferences, unsure how Ron might take it. Ron could be touchy about certain things. But seeing Charlie bring a guy home for Christmas made him more comfortable with it. And he wasn't nervous about telling Hermione. She sort of already knew anyway.

"I'm," he said, taking in a deep breath – he'd never said this out loud before, "gay."

Hermione got a smug smile on her face.

"Or maybe bi," Harry tacked on. "But I've definitely got a thing for guys."

Ron crinkled his brow. "Is that why Ginny broke up with you?"

"Erm," Harry thought about it. "Kind of. I didn't know I was, at the time, but I think she had it figured out."

Ron got a sly smile on his face. "Too bad Charlie's seeing someone," he reached over and poked Harry in the knee. "You could still make part of the family if you went out with him."

"Eww!" Harry cringed. "No Weasley boys! Too much like brothers."

"Please don't ever say anything like that again," Hermione tried to keep a straight face.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" Ron looked desperately interested.

"Well, I – uh," Harry glanced at Hermione briefly. "There is someone I kind of like."

"Ohh," Ron bounced a bit on the bed. "Does he like you back? Does he know you like him?"

Hermione raised one eyebrow ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I mean, yeah, he likes me back," he paused. "And I'm pretty sure he knows I like him."

"Then why aren't you seeing each other?" Ron seemed confused.

Harry wished Hermione would take over the conversation, or at least reprimand Ron for asking questions that were too personal. But she just sat there quietly, waiting to hear what Harry would say. He could almost see the wheels turning in her brain.

"It's not – the timing isn't really," Harry struggled, "neither one of us are really available for each other right now."

That seemed to confuse Ron even more.

"I mean," Harry tried again, "it's not a good idea for us to be together right now."

Ron still didn't seem to understand, and Harry was getting desperate. He looked pleadingly at Hermione.

Finally, she saved him. "Well, I personally think it's awfully mature of you to wait to start a relationship until after your NEWTs," she nodded, clearly knowing that was not even close to the whole story.

A knowing look dawned on Ron's face. "Oh, yeah, mate, I know we all want to do well. Good thing he's into his studies, too."

Harry had to fight a smirk. He looked over at Hermione and gave her what he hoped was a smile of gratitude. She gave him back a look that said she most definitely would be having a private conversation with him later. Harry tried not to groan.

"Wait!" Ron turned to look at Hermione. "You think he's being mature not being in a relationship until after NEWTs? Does that mean you want to, you know, stop with – you know," Ron began waving his hand between him and Hermione.

She giggled. "No, Ron, I'm fairly sure that with me, you're not going to be distracted from your studies. I'm confident I'll be able to stop that from happening."

Ron relaxed. "Oh, yeah, you're right."

Harry, glad to be off the subject of his love life, but also relieved at having come out to his friends, he joined in the conversation about what Hermione had gotten for Christmas.

* * *

"We have a few minutes," Hermione said quietly as she edged her way into Ron's room where Harry was packing his trunk. "I think we should talk now."

"About what?" Harry was deliberately obtuse.

"Well, that cat, for starters. What was that all about?" she sat down on the bed.

Harry closed his trunk and sat down on top of it. He sighed. "Oh, nothing. Someone just sent me a miniature cat but didn't sign who it was from."

Hermione's look was puzzled. "Can I see it?"

Harry wanted to say no, but he knew that would cause her even more suspicion. He got off his trunk and opened it, reaching in to draw out the little box. He took off the lid and lifted the cat out, making sure she couldn't see the note.

"Ohhh!" she cooed and took the cat into her hands. "He's beautiful! And is that – a snitch on his collar?"

"Yeah," Harry fiddled with the box top.

"And you've no idea who sent it?" she looked up. "There wasn't a note or anything?"

_Damn_. She'd have to ask about that. He couldn't lie to her – she'd probably find out about it later. The entire Weasley family had seen him reading the note, anyway.

"Yeah, but it wasn't signed." He prayed she didn't ask to see it. Of course he knew that would be in vain.

"May I see it?" she asked.

He sighed again. "Sure." He pulled the small square of paper out of the box and handed it to her. She took it with her right hand, her left still cradling the cat, which was now sitting quietly and licking its paws.

"What do you think this means?" she wondered aloud, rereading the note over and over.

"No clue," Harry lied.

"Hmmm," she took one last look at the note before handing it back over to Harry. "Well, he's adorable, at any rate. What are you going to name him?"

Harry almost choked as he answered, "Maybe 'He-Who-Has-Not-Yet-Been-Named'."

She stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, startling the cat, who hissed.

"No, I don't know, probably just call him Cat," Harry smiled, thinking how glad he was that he wasn't the only one who thought Severus's joke to Lucius had been funny, and also how Severus would probably look at him and call him ridiculous for calling the miniature cat the same thing Severus called Harry as the cat.

"Do you think it came from this boy you like?" she snapped him out of his musings.

He froze for a second. "I dunno. Maybe."

"Why a cat, though?" she wondered to herself.

Harry didn't say anything.

"Do you want to tell me anything more about him?" she looked back up at Harry. She wasn't trying to force him into it, he could tell, but he knew that she knew he probably wanted to tell someone about it.

"I don't really think I should," he felt genuinely sorry about that, but he couldn't guarantee she wouldn't go running to the Headmistress about inappropriate teacher-student relationships.

"It's not about NEWTs, though, is it?" she pursed her lips together. "The reason you're not officially seeing him?"

Harry answered in defeat, "No, it's not."

"Is this the same boy you kissed?" she didn't sound judgmental, just curious.

"Yeah," Harry admitted.

"You really like him, don't you?" she smiled softly.

"I really do," Harry nodded, taking the cat back and putting it in the box.

"If he really likes you, too, it must be difficult being apart," she surmised.

_You have no idea_, Harry thought to himself. "Yeah, it is," he shrugged. "But there's nothing I can do about it."

She frowned.

"I mean, I suppose we could be together secretly or something, but he doesn't want that. He says it's too important to stay apart for right now. If anyone finds out," Harry trailed off, unsure of what else he could say.

"I think I understand," Hermione nodded.

_Not likely,_ Harry mentally snorted.

"His family wouldn't approve, and he wants to wait until after Hogwarts so you can go off on your own," she seemed pleased for working it out.

This gave Harry another idea. "Is it, you know, is there homophobia in the wizarding world?" he asked her.

"Not as much as in the Muggle world," she told him. "Mainly in pure-blood circles, but even that's lessening, now that two males or two females can produce a biological child."

"What?" Harry thought he must have misheard her.

"Using a potion," she explained. "It's a complicated process, but basically, it's two sets of chromosomes matching up, just like with a man and a woman."

Harry nodded like he understood.

"Anyway, most people won't care one way or the other about it. Unless, of course, they fancy you and you don't happen to fancy them back. But I suppose that's true no matter what."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"If you change your mind," she said softly, "I'm here for you. You know I wouldn't tell anyone who it is, and you know I wouldn't judge you."

Harry smiled, wishing he could believe her. "I'll let you know," he said instead.

Ron chose that moment to poke his head into the room. "We're leaving for the station," he announced, and opened the door for the two of them to follow him out.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: So sorry it has been a while since the last update. It has been a crazy couple of weeks for me. I am on a trip right now, though, so I wrote a chapter on the plane ride today. I'm pretty sure there will be just one more chapter (two at the most), and I'm hoping to finish it on the plane ride home tomorrow. I know, you're probably sad that this fic is coming to a close, but don't despair! I've also started two new fics that I will be posting once I get a bit further along on them (oh, and finish this one, of course!). Anyway, enjoy the latest installment!_

* * *

Harry hadn't seen Severus since he'd been back at Hogwarts. He figured the man must be working on a potion in his lab. But now it was dinner time and he knew he was going to see him in the Great Hall. His heart started pounding as he thought about how the meal would go. He decided he wasn't going to look at Severus at all. He hoped Severus wouldn't look at him, either. In fact, he was pretty sure Severus would have already decided not to look at him, so Harry resolved to follow suit and keep his attention firmly on his friends at the table.

"…coming?" Ron finally said, waving his hand in front of Harry's face, snapping him out of his daze.

"Wha-? Oh, yeah," Harry hopped up off his bed and followed Ron and the other boys down to the common room where the other Gryffindors were heading out of the portrait to the Great Hall.

When they entered the Hall, Harry involuntarily glanced up at the head table. _Really_, he told himself afterwards,_ there wasn't_ _any_ _other reasonably place to look_. He'd have looked up even if he and Severus didn't have this…this thing going on. Of course, he immediately caught Severus's eye and the man relaxed his face a fraction – enough that Harry knew exactly what was going through his mind – Harry's last day before leaving Hogwarts for Christmas. Harry flushed and tore his eyes away, rushing to sit down at the Gryffindor table.

It seemed like a long time that he'd been eating and involving himself in conversation when Hermione frowned and got Harry's attention.

"I wonder what's going on with Professor Snape?" she said in a voice low enough that Harry was sure only he and Ron could hear it.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, careful not to turn around and look.

Ron's face turned itself into a frown matching Hermione's. "Probably plotting how to make Harry spend the rest of his detentions," he muttered darkly.

"He's looking at me?" Harry fought the nearly uncontrollable urge to twist around and look at Severus.

"Not just looking, mate," Ron leaned across the table to get closer to Harry. "Staring."

"He looks like he's thinking about something serious," Hermione's eyes darted between Severus and Harry.

"Does he look angry?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head. "Vindictive? Pissed off? Irritated?" Hermione kept shaking her head 'no.' Finally, Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He promised himself he would turn around only for a moment to see the expression on Snape's face and then he'd turn back around right away. He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder up at the head table, but by the time he looked at Severus, the man had already turned his attentions elsewhere. Harry sighed.

"Do you think he's going to make you serve more detentions, mate?" Ron asked, taking a large bite of turkey leg.

"Dunno," Harry answered truthfully. "I wouldn't blame him, but maybe my detentions over the holidays were enough for him." Secretly, Harry hoped their intimacy had more than made up for any remaining detentions, and he figured that perhaps Severus wouldn't want Harry to serve any more detentions anyway, if for no other reason than it would be taxing for both of them to remain separate. "I'll ask him tomorrow after Potions."

"Still can't believe we're all in that class," Ron shook his head in disbelief.

"I can," Hermione said with an air of superiority. "It's what happens when you put real effort into your studies."

"What happens?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"Good marks," she responded confidently. "And if we want them to continue, we'll need to get a good night's sleep," she eyed both boys knowingly. "So, no wandering about the castle, Harry. And no staying up late chatting in the dormitory," she turned her stare to Ron.

"What?" Ron smiled back at her guiltily.

"Come on, then," Hermione stood from the table and motioned for both boys to follow her. "We've got a few hour before curfew to revise before we have to be in bed. Which subject would you like to start with?"

Harry and Ron both groaned and exchanged a pained look.

"Well," Hermione huffed at them, "since we've got it first thing tomorrow, Transfiguration it is."

And with that, the three of them made their way out of the Great Hall, Harry completely forgetting to even throw a final glance back at Severus at the head table.

* * *

"As I had predicted," Snape's voice was low and forceful, cutting through the dungeons like a snake through tall grass, "not all your classmates were skilled enough to be considered for NEWT-level Potions."

Harry looked around him and noticed that four of the students were now gone. One Slytherin, one Ravenclaw, and two Hufflepuffs. That left just him, Ron, and Hermione for Gryffindor, Draco and his partner from Slytherin, three Ravenclaws, and two Hufflepuffs. Harry was filled with pride, knowing his house had been the only one to not lose anyone to the semester exam.

"You all had assignments to work on over holidays. I trust you spent sufficient time on them? Yes? Very well, _Accio essays_!" Snape held out his hand and ten scrolls of parchment flew into his outstretched hand. Harry hoped that the two feet he'd written on adjusting antidotes to account for various allergies would be to Snape's liking. Harry had decided that for the rest of the semester, if he kept thinking of Severus as Snape, it would be easier to forget about what had happened between them last semester.

"I also instructed you to spend significant time familiarizing yourself with the Internal Hemorrhage Alleviating potion. That will be your assignment today. You will brew enough to decant two vials. If your attempt is of adequate quality, your second vial will be sent up to Madame Pomfrey for use in the Infirmary. You have two hours," Snape conjured a sand-filled hourglass and tapped it once with his wand to start the sand flowing. "Begin."

Harry was glad he, Ron, and Hermione had spent time every day going over their assignments for the different courses. He felt reasonably prepared to attempt this potion. Everyone was doing their own; there were no pairs today. He turned to the appropriate page in his textbook and then went to gather all the necessary ingredients. He was able to focus solidly on his own potion, only sneaking glances at Ron's and Hermione's every so often. From what he could see, his potion was slightly better than Ron's but not quite as perfect as Hermione's. By the time the two hours elapsed, Harry had two vials decanted and began cleaning up his station.

"Vials up here, on your way out," Snape instructed, not looking up from his desk as the students made their way to the front and lined the bottles on the edge of the desk. Harry lingered so he was the last one there, and he threw a hopeful glance over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, who had agreed to wait for him outside the classroom.

"Erm, sir?" Harry set his vials down on the corner of the desk and tried not to fidget as he looked at Snape.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape looked up at Harry and glanced around quickly, noting that the other students had left the room. He waved his wand and the classroom door shut. Another wave and Harry knew that a silencing spell had been cast. "Is everything all right?"

Harry couldn't contain the smile that spread on his face and the warmth that spread in his chest. Severus cared about him. "Fine, yeah," he assured Severus. "I just was wondering," he trailed off.

Severus sighed. "We discussed this, Harry. You're not to come see me after hours anymore. Nothing can happen until after your NEWTs. I thought we were clear on this." Severus sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, but it was clear he didn't like the arrangement any more than Harry did.

"Oh, right, yes. I mean, it is. I am," Harry stumbled over his words, "clear, I mean. It's clear. But that's not what I wanted to ask you."

Severus's face registered a brief expression of relief and curiosity. Harry was sure that the relief came from not having to try and rebuff Harry. He was pretty sure that Severus would end up caving if he pushed even just a little bit. But he'd promised, and he wanted to show Severus that he could be trusted, and that he was a real adult.

"I was just wondering about my detentions, sir," Harry clarified. "You never really set a time for them to end – you just said I had to serve them for the 'foreseeable future.' So, I was making sure that if you were expecting me tonight, that I would be here."

Severus looked shrewdly at Harry. It was clear he was trying to figure out Harry's angle. He thought Harry was trying to use some means to get physical with him once more.

"Really, sir," Harry promised. "It's not about that. I really just want to make sure I've done what you think is fair to make up for…for my mistake."

Severus finally relented and relaxed, apparently satisfied that Harry meant what he said. "Well," he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands in front of them. "I'd ask if you'd learned your lesson, but I believe you have."

At that, Harry nodded vehemently.

"And although it would serve my selfish reasons for having you here, with me – alone – for a few hours each evening, I admit that would greatly undermine the self-control we are both attempting."

Harry let a small smile onto his face. "It definitely would for me, sir."

"I suppose I could have you serve your detentions with another professor. Or Filch," he mused.

Harry's stomach dropped and he almost stopped breathing.

"But perhaps since I want to keep your impressions of me favorable, I had better not," he finished with a sly smile.

Harry wanted to end the conversation there, but knew he had to convince the man of his maturity and regret. "Sir, I have learned my lesson, but I really do understand if you think I need more punishment. I'll serve the detentions with anyone you choose, if it's what you want."

Severus's eyebrows rose at that. "My, my, Potter," he declared with a tone of slight surprise, "who knew you would be able to finally grow up?"

They stared at each other for just a moment before Severus broke the silence, stemming any sexual tension that might have started to build.

"No, your detentions are done. You may tell Mr. Weasley and the rest of the team that you will be available for Quidditch practices in the evenings, once the season picks back up."

Harry's eyes widened. "Sir, how did you…"

Severus chuckled before standing and taking a few of the students' vials in his hands to store away for the rest of the day. "Ah, Potter, while there are many benefits of youth, some things you just have to wait to learn until you are older."

"Well, thank you, sir," Harry gave a curt nod.

"You are welcome," Severus let Harry walk almost all the way to the door before calling softly, "Well done today."

Harry left the classroom with a glow in his chest and a bounce in his step.

* * *

"Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve as they were leaving the Great Hall after lunch about a week before Easter holidays.

"Sure," he agreed, and waited for Ron to follow them wherever Hermione was leading.

Hermione shook her head. "Ron knows I want to talk with you alone."

Harry's defenses immediately went up. Hermione cornering you to talk was definitely not a good thing. Hermione led them to the far side of the lake, the tension growing with each step as they walked in silence. Finally, she sat down on the grass and looked up at Harry.

He contemplated staying standing, but knew there was the potential that they would be here a while, so he sat down next to her.

"How are you, Harry?" she asked him seriously.

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm fine, he assured her."

"Are you really?" she wondered, looking steadily at him. "You've seemed to be more on edge lately."

_Damn,_ _had it been showing_? Harry had thought he'd been pretty easygoing around his friends, but the truth was that the longer he went ignoring Severus, the more frustrated he was. And now, with just roughly two months left until NEWTs, he was sure time was slowing down just to spite him.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "I think I'm starting to worry about NEWTs a little early, is all."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I might believe that," her hand pulled a tuft of grass out of the ground, "if it didn't go against everything you've ever said or done for the last seven years."

_Well, bollocks to that_, Harry thought.

"It's the boy you like, isn't it?" she guessed.

"You're unbelievable," he shook his head with a slight smile.

"You miss him, don't you? You're frustrated, not being able to be with him?" she put her hand on Harry's knee.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I am. I really, really am. It's like the more I think about it, the further away it feels."

"He's still making you wait until after NEWTs?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I mean, I understand why, but I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"I know, Harry, but I do think he's right," she gave him a pitying look.

"Oh, NEWTs, right," Harry remembered a second too late that this was the reason Hermione thought he couldn't be with Severus – they both had to study for NEWTs.

Hermione chuckled softly. "Oh, Harry, I know it's not that," she put her arm around his shoulder and leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"What do you mean?" he asked cagily.

She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Honestly, Harry, you had to know I'd figure it out," she admonished lightly. "He's a bit better at it, but you have it written all over your face. You'll never have a career as an actor."

"I don't know what you mean," Harry's pulse started to race. Surely, surely she hadn't figured out that he loved Severus?

"You look at him without realizing it, sometimes. A lot, actually. And then when you realize you're staring at him, you look away too quickly. And then, sometimes, when he says things that everyone else thinks is awful, you get this little smile on your face, like you know he means something else." She raised her head off his shoulder.

Harry could barely swallow.

"I just want to know," she put her hands in her lap. "You said you knew he felt the same way about you. How did you know that?"

Harry could barely breathe, but he also knew he couldn't deny it. He should have known better, anyway. Hermione was too smart for her own good. "I just have to make sure we're talking about the same person, here, Hermione. Who do you think I want to be with?"

She paused for a moment before taking in a breath. "Professor Snape," she told him softly.

Harry's heart crashed into his stomach. So she knew. Which meant someone else might have noticed. "Does anyone else know?" he asked her fearfully.

"I don't think so," she reassured him. "I know you better than most everyone else, and he's much better at hiding it."

"So you think he feels the same way?" Harry wondered about her perceptions regarding Severus's feelings.

"Definitely," she nodded her head. "You don't see it; in fact, I'd wager almost no one does, but when you're not looking; when you're eating or working on a potion, he watches you."

_Really_?

"But he doesn't watch you to try and find something to criticize anymore. It's like he enjoys watching you. Sometimes I can tell he's watching parts of you besides your face. I think he likes your hands," she blushed slightly.

"You notice everything, Hermione," he shook his head in disbelief.

"I thought something was funny at the beginning of the year when he was treating everyone else so differently – especially you," she explained. "I didn't put it together until a few weeks ago, though."

Harry could only nod.

"So how did you figure out how he felt? Surely he didn't – Harry, he didn't do anything physical to you, did he?" she suddenly sounded like a teacher ready to give a lecture.

"No," he assured her quickly. "No, he didn't. But what I told you before about overhearing him, that part was true. I heard him talking about me to someone else."

She nodded. "So then you went to him? How did you two realize how you felt about each other? Oh!" her eyes widened. "Does he even know how you feel? Or is it _you_ who's waiting until after NEWTs to tell him?"

"No, I – we," Harry couldn't think of a way to explain. "He sort of found out about me eavesdropping and we had a bit of a fight. I think we figured it out then."

Her fell into an exasperated expression. "The detentions," she sighed knowingly.

"Yeah. I really, really deserved them," he reiterated.

"Yes, I suppose you did," she agreed. She paused for a moment. "So, the cat at Christmas," she looked down at her hands as they pulled at the grass, "was it from him?"

Harry nodded, but realized she didn't see it because she was staring down at the ground. "Yeah," he told her.

"It was very thoughtful," she said, looking up at him. "But why a cat?" she wondered.

"He – well, he's a cat person," Harry tried to explain. She had been very understanding about the whole thing so far, but he was sure that would end if she knew that he was an unregistered Animagus.

"Hm," she shook her head, "I would have never guessed."

Harry chuckled. "Me either," he assured her.

"Harry," she looked right into his eyes. "Is he going to make you happy?"

"Yeah," he nodded, this time it was he who looked down at the grass. "When we were alone, I felt – he _gets_ me, Hermione. He understands me in a way no one else can. And I get him. I need him. We need each other. I think," he paused. "Hermione, I think I love him."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly at that pronouncement, but then she schooled her features into a business-like expression. "Well, if you make each other happy, then that's all there is to it."

"You seem so…okay…about this," Harry sounded skeptical.

"Well, I've had a few weeks to deal with it," she admitted. "I certainly wasn't at first. Especially since I thought he might have done something to you – something that would have overstepped the teacher-student boundary," she clarified. Harry thought it prudent not to mention the things that he himself had done to cross that line. "But the more I saw how you looked at him and how he looked at you, I just couldn't find it in me to be upset. I mean, sure, it is Professor Snape, and I don't really understand it completely, but I do think I know what you mean about being able to really understand each other. There are things I'll never be able to help you with. There are just some things that you've been through that I'll never, ever really understand. And if he does, then you're right, you do need him. And if it's romantically, then as long as you're happy, that's what matters."

"I wish everyone would be as supportive," Harry muttered. "I'm pretty sure Ron won't be at all understanding about it."

"You'd be surprised," she smirked. "I think he's softened this year since Professor Snape has been more tolerant towards everyone. I don't think he'll ever like Professor Snape, and I don't think he'll be ecstatic right away, but he'll come around."

"I definitely don't want anyone else knowing about it until after NEWTs, though," Harry explained. "I don't want anyone thinking something's happened that could lose Severus his job."

Hermione gave a broad smile.

"What?" he asked.

"You called him Severus," she grinned. "It was cute."

He raised one eyebrow.

"You even look like him when you do that," she giggled. Then she grew serious. "I understand, and I think that's a wise idea," she agreed. "It will be news enough when people find out; you don't want to make even more trouble for him."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"You know," Hermione began, "Ron mentioned that Professor Snape is helping you with your career choices. Ron says you're not entirely interested in being an Auror anymore."

"He's right," Harry told her. "On both counts. Severus started helping me over winter break. I haven't had a chance to do much since then, since we're avoiding each other, though."

"Do you have any idea what you'd like to do?" she asked.

"There are definitely some things that seem interesting, now that my heart isn't set on being an Auror," he explained. "There are some interesting positions in the Ministry that deal with Defense. Teaching also doesn't seem like a bad idea. There are also some really neat opportunities to work in wizard-muggle relations. My experience with the Durselys was so bad, I thought it might be nice to help muggle-borns and their families acclimate better to the wizarding world."

"Those all sound like great ideas, Harry," Hermione pat his knee. "If you'd like, I'd be happy to look at the pamphlets with you and see if I could answer any questions."

"Thanks," he gave her a warm smile.

"We'd better go now," she stood up and brushed off her robes. "Class starts in just ten minutes."

"Hey, Hermione," Harry called after she'd taken a few steps away from him. She turned around. "Thanks. For everything. For understanding. For always being there. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"Oh, Harry," she ran back toward him and threw her arms around him, nearly suffocating him with her hug. When she pulled back, Harry could see tears on her cheeks. She laughed weakly and wiped them off.

"Come on, now," he joked, "Ron'll have my head if he thinks I've made you cry!"

She wiped her face again and then grabbed his hand, pulling him around the lake towards the castle.


End file.
